Everlasting
by MyelleWhite
Summary: "Love is love, no matter what gender." After a series of issues, Sherlock and John have finally had enough waiting. Sherlock/John. LAST CHAPTER NOW COMPLETE!
1. Chapter 1

**PLEASE READ: **This is my first Sherlock story. Be kind to me...lol. kidding, if you hate it be honest! Reviews are great no matter what the content!

This story will be never ending. Seriously. It has a point and a buried story line but it won't come out for a while. This story isn't about the cases. This story is about John and Sherlock. Sherlock and John, however you want to say it. I won't stop posting once one problem is solved. No...this story is unlike any other. It's everlasting. Honestly. From one thing to the next, just as their lives would be in real life. Staring from the exact moment when the season ended, this is my interpretation of what happens.

Oh, one more thing...enjoy! And if you like what you read, check out my other works!

-Myelle White

**WARNING: **First, the story will dive into Sarah/ John and Sherlock/ Molly but I PROMISE IT WILL ENVENUTALLY BE **SHERLOCK/JOHN!**

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I knew how bad he wanted to shoot that damn bomb. My mind screamed at me, telling me it was for the best but part of me couldn't accept that.

He turned to me, silently asking if I was ready. I knew he was ready. He had probably expected to die the moment he decided to come here. At least he knew what he was getting into. I, on the other hand, was kidnapped, strapped to a bomb and told what to say. I wasn't ready.

Then I remembered the look that came into his eyes when I had taken Moriarty from behind and told him to run. Sherlock had been grateful. Touched. I guessed no one ever saw him clear enough to want to die for him. If Moriarty was right about one thing, it was that Sherlock had a heart. And that was it. I would die for him. What was wrong with me?

I only just met this man weeks ago but when I saw the red dots move from him to me, my heart nearly stopped. I wanted to scream and run to him...and I didn't know why.

So I nodded. I was ready to die. Maybe not for the world, which it would have come to eventually, but for him. Sherlock. My flatmate, colleague and best friend. It was a shame we would die here. We had barely just begun what could have been a great career together and it was shattering in front of us. One bullet would destroy two lives.

"You don't want to do that." Moriarty said.

"Why not? John and I are ready to give our lives if it means taking yours."

"No you're not."

There was a prolonged silence. I could tell Moriarty was getting uncomfortable. I was too, but at least I had good reason to be. For Christ's sake, I was just strapped to a bomb!

"If they shoot me," Sherlock began, "I simply shoot the bomb before every bit of my life is gone. You can't guarantee your escape Moriarty. In fact, I'd say there's zero chance of that happening."

"You can't escape either, Sherlock."

"I don't expect to leave here tonight."

I swallowed the lump in my throat. I didn't want to die, but I especially didn't want _him _to die. Sherlock did so much for London, and people didn't even know it! The man has a first rate mind and isn't afraid to dive into danger, as long as it involves saving someone else. He was a hero and no one would ever know.

I thought of Sarah then, for some unknown reason. She knew about what we did. Hell, she even experienced it! Things have slowed down between us lately-a lot. I wonder if she'll miss me. Probably not. I don't think I'll miss her. I'm not so into our relationship anymore.

I didn't love Sherlock, per se, but I certainly cared for him and his well being. Just friends wasn't strong enough to describe our bond anymore. Though he didn't always show it, I knew he cared too. Especially in the moment when he ripped the bomb off of me...his concern shone through his emotionless facade and in that single moment, I knew he had a heart. Once again, Moriarty was right about that.

It was all too strange, but I now believed that you could love someone without being _in love_ with them.

"Even if you kill me, Sherlock, there are people who have instructions. Instructions to not only kill, but to torture everyone you care about."

"I don't care about anyone."

"Yes you do. What about John? If he doesn't die tonight, he will soon. Molly? Mycroft?"

"John is here with me. I don't have to worry about him. Mycroft can take care of himself, I'm very sure of that. Molly is completely innocent and you've hurt her enough by being her boyfriend. Don't you think you should cut her a break?"

"Never."

"Please, keep her out of this." Sherlock begged. I'd never seen him give so much as a second glance at the poor girl and now he was begging for her safety.

"No. You know what might be more fun? Torturing John here, since you care about him the most. You could watch, Sherlock. You'll like it."

"He's not even the one you want! I am!"

"But you would rather it be you than him and I can't be giving you what you and, now can I?"

Sherlock stayed silent. I believe I saw fear in his eyes, but it was gone before i could get a good look. He turned to me once again. We both knew Moriarty was serious. If we were going to die, however, might as well spare some of the pain and just shoot the bomb. It was certain to be better than anything the criminal had planned for us.

"Shoot the bomb. There's no guarantee that he won't kill everyone we know anyways and there's no guarantee that he will once we're dead." I said. "Sherlock, if we're dying anyways, we've got to bring him with us."

"You're right. John-"

"Yeah?"

"Goodbye. And thank you."

"Awww..." Moriarty started, "a sad ending for the sweet couple."

We ignored his joking.

"Goodbye Sherlock. It's been an honour."

Those were my last words to him? That's it? What about telling him how he saved me from destroying myself in self-hate and how he helped my fix my limp and even how he made me feel human again? I was no longer a soldier following orders and killing. I was freed because of him. And those were my last words...

I never had time to say anything else even if I wanted to.

Sherlock shot the bomb. The rest was black.

VVVVVVVVVVVVVVVV

Did you like it? Please say yes.

ALSO! Because the story has no end...there really is no big ending. Well, there are lots along the way but there's ALWAYS room for suggestions. If you have something that you've wanted to see for a while, tell me! I'm more than willing to help you out.

-Myelle


	2. Chapter 2

Hello again...

Again, if you have any requests or just want to see something, let me know. Also, just to remind you, this story is going to be Sherlock/john eventually. First however, we have to get through john/sarah and Sherlock/ molly...that last one should be interesting ;)

-MW

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Sherlock POV

I watched John's life seemingly seep right out of his body. I faced when I shot the bomb...and I saw get thrown into the concrete wall by the force of the bomb. The bomb that I shot. The bomb that was part of a game I played. And earlier, I had thought it was fun. I had thought this sick, twisted game of bombings and puzzles was fun.

I'm not sure I'm even human.

John hit the wall with such force that I figured he was dead in an instant. At least it didn't hurt him. It was all so fast that he probably didn't feel a thing.

Myself...I was thrown into the pool. Lucky. The water hurt when I hit it with such great energy but it broke my fall into the concrete below the liquid. The bottom of the pool. I still hit it, but not hard enough to get hurt from it.

It took a while to find the surface. All sense of direction was gone and I was horribly disoriented. When I did reach it, however, I almost wanted to dive back down. The air in front of me was clouded with dust and I couldn't see five feet in front of me. Grey and white everywhere...until I saw John's black jumper buried under a pile of rubble and fallen stone.

"John!" I yelled. For the first time in a long time, I was sad. Horrified, actually .John should have never gotten involved with me. Then I realized that I wasn't only sad, I was guilty. I wish it had been me.

I ran to John, desperate to check for signs of life, but I wouldn't get my hopes up yet. When I reached him, I shook his shoulders. He flinched. He _flinched! _That meant he was _alive! _

"Oh, God, Sherlock. You scared me."

I laughed disbelievingly. "You scared _me._ I thought you were dead. I saw you hit-" I motioned to the wall since I could hardly finish my sentence. I was tried catching my breath but breathing wasn't my main concern right now. John was my concern. I leant down and brushed the rocks off him. Thank God they weren't very big.

"I'm sorry John. So, so sorry. What can I do? Are you hurt?"

"Sherlock, calm down. I think you're starting to hyperventilate. If you keep that up with all this dust in the air, you're not going to last long. Sit with me." He ordered-but then he started to laugh.

"How does this happen? How do I suddenly get involved in-"

"My life?"

"I didn't mean it like that Sher-"

"I'm sorry, John. We might have been normal friends if I wasn't so eager to have a companion on my cases. I should have just hired someone. Then they would be dead and not you."

"I'm not dead though."

"But you're hurt."

"Not badly."

"But you're _hurt._"

VVVVVVVVVV

John POV

I watched Sherlock's face turn for one instant into guilt. Then back to his worried frown.

"No worries, Sherlock. I enjoy the cases."

Then we both heard sirens. I usually hated those loud, screaming noises but today they sounded like a symphony. I wondered how long I would last, though. I was surely going to pass out before we got to a hospital. I might even die, but I reminded myself that I had already prepared for this before the bomb went off. Therefore, it made no difference now if I lived or died, because I was supposed to be dead anyways.

"Good, the ambulance should arrive first. I want you in there right away. You're going to die if you aren't looked after." Sherlock said.

"What about you? It's freezing outside and your coat is soaking wet. You're going to become hypothermic."

He tried then to stifle his shivering. _No use. _I thought. His body needed to shiver to generate heat. It wasn't going to stop because he said so. Shivering was saving his life.

"Take off your jacket and take mine. It's too hot for me out here and too cold for you. We'll compromise."

Of course, as I fully expected, Sherlock protested, but I persisted. Eventually he took it when I threatened to leave him with Lestrade and Anderson all alone when they came. Almost on cue, they arrived with the police vehicles and ambulances. There was a fire truck too, but it shouldn't be needed since the bomb was already detonated.

"What the hell happened to you? I told you to inform me of anything you knew but the both of you ran off and came here instead. Without backup. You're idiots. And you're lucky to be alive." Lestrade scolded. It sounded like a mother telling her child not to run off in store.

I felt a wave of exhaustion ride over me. It was taking me down. I wish I had been in the ambulance when this happened but that just wasn't going to happen. It was too late. I was slipping from reality and going unconscious. It was a funny feeling and it scared me a bit that I liked it.

Then I fell.

VVVVVVVVVV

Sherlock POV

"John?" I asked when he began to sway. Seconds later, he fell. "John!"

I caught him before he reached the concrete and Lestrade helped me lower him carefully to the ground. I sent Lestrade to get the medics and he came back with a team of them and a gurney. They quickly assessed John's condition then carried him away. They moved urgently. That wasn't good.

Then I saw something else that wasn't good.

"Lestrade, go with John. I need to do some work here. I'll catch up later. Text me the room number at the hospital."

"Get in the ambulance, Sherlock. Now."

"I promise I will see a doctor. But not right now. I have to talk to someone."

Lestrade seemed to trust my lie. Of course I would see a doctor, but not about me. About John. And besides, even if I didn't see a doctor about John, John was a doctor anyways. And I would see him again...I hoped anyways.

"Mycroft, what are you doing here?"

"You're and idiot. I had men moving into the place and you went right ahead and shot the bomb. You killed Moriarty, all his men and then two of mine."

"I killed Moriarty? That's fantastic, but John and I were ready for the consequences."

"Death? You were willing to kill your only friend?"

"John is alive."

"Yes, Sherlock. He is for now, but you saw him. He puts on a brave face but he's not going to last long."

I've never known my brother to be wrong. And that scared me more than the bomb had.

VVVVVVVVVVVVVVVV

That's all I can write for now. Hope you enjoyed it. If you have any suggestions, let me know. No time to edit, and I apologize for any mistakes.

-MW


	3. Chapter 3

Thank you for the reviews and private messages so far. You are all wonderful! Like I said, if you want to see anything, let me know in a review or private message. I've gotten a few so far...and let me tell you, the story is going to take a few turns in the next few chapters.

-MW

VVVVVVVVVVVVVV

"Sherlock, I saw what John did-what he wanted to do. He offered his life for yours. I can't imagine why, but you at least owe him your company while he's brought to the hospital. I advise you to get into the ambulance and accompany him."

"You always sound so official. It's disturbing and quite annoying."

Mycroft stared at me, and I saw he was serious. I couldn't go with John. I couldn't hold myself together. Besides, our jackets should be cleaned. Someone would have to do that. I suppose Mycroft would have someone but I don't trust my jacket with anyone. Maybe John, but still...I just couldn't go.

"I know why you did it, Sherlock. You shot the bomb because you figured John was further away from it than you so therefore, he would be safe. You would die, he would live. Sherlock the saviour. Well, brother, you couldn't have been more wrong."

In a moment of panic, i realized what he meant. John must already be dead.

"Not yet." Mycroft said.

"Wait one minute!" Ordered Lestrade, who had apparently been right behind me.

"I thought I told you to go to the ambulance. Look, it's leaving now. John is completely alone."

"That's not my fault. You...Sherlock's brother...why did you answer something Sherlock didn't ask? You just said 'not yet', obviously in answer to a question he was thinking. Is that how you do it? You're psychics."

"No. We're not psychics. Only very observant. You could be too if you didn't spend so much time watching reruns on the tellie."

"How did you-"

Lestrade turned and walked away, not caring for an answer. He's had enough experience with me to know that Mycroft wouldn't answer unless feeling generous. Clearly, he wasn't at the moment.

I parted with my brother and just walked. I had things to do before seeing John. I would see him later. He would be just fine. It was ridiculous that Mycroft thought he were going to die. The man had to be wrong sometime, and that was tonight. Perhaps I was in denial, but I've always been fairly open to every possibility. That made denial nearly impossible for me.

People watched me as I left the crime scene. Yes, I was soaking wet and yes, there was debris stuck in my hair but they were probably staring at me because the way I clutched at John's jacket. I held it close but stared at it as if it had been cursed. As if John's jacket was responsible for the entire situation. The people watching me must have thought I was mental. Perhaps they were right.

I'd have to get the jackets cleaned. Then I'd have to clean myself up. I looked horrendous. John wouldn't likely accept a visit from a man who was costumed as a swamp monster. A part of me, however, knew that John would accept a visit from me no matter what I looked like. I think that was the water getting to my brain.

I'd also need a gift. I believe that's what people do to say sorry. I've never genuinely been sorry in my life save for now. I loved new experienced, but new feelings were just terrible.

When I got tot eh cleaner's, I gave the man our jackets and reminded him to be careful with them. I hated handing over my jacket. I knew this man from a previous case. Therefore, the cleaning was also free. I felt a twinge of guilt at having John's jacket cleaned by someone I knew would do it for free, but here, at least it would get done properly.

The cleaner owed me.

What kind of gift says: "I'm really very sorry for having you kidnapped and strapped to a bomb. I promise it might not happen again." Nothing. There was nothing in this world worth what I did. But I couldn't give him _nothing. _

Forget it, I told myself. I sighed and made my way to Baker Street.

"Where's John?" Mrs. Hudson asked, as I unlocked the main door. She must have been waiting for us to come home again. Bless her. I might as well tell her the truth of what happened to John.

"Well, Mrs. Hudson, John was first straped to a bomb. The kidnapper –slash-bomber left adn I ripped the bomb off of John. The criminal came back and I shot the bomb to kill him, even though John and I might die too. I landed in the pool, but John wasn't so lucky."

"Sherlock, if you killed him..."

"He's in the hospital."

"Then what are you doing here? Get over there! Here-" she said, running to her kitchen to grab a tin which she shoved into my hands. "Bring him some biscuits. I made them only an hour ago. There's enough there for both of you. I reckon you're in need of some too. I've tried to stay out of your business, Sherlock but if you've killed one of my tenants, it's my business too. You make him better or you're out on the street."

She turned and left. I never expected Mrs. Hudson to care about her tenants. She was sweet, but still a grumpy old woman. The only reason she cared about me was because I helped her out once. Apparently, John had been a good friend to her whilst he was unemployed when we first started sharing the flat. Fancy that.

I called out a 'thank you' and left to find a cab. I considered changing but I guess John would just have to deal with the swamp monster look.

My phone buzzed in my pocket after I told the driver to go to Bart's hospital...the one John was most likely going to.

GET TO HOSPITAL NOW. JOHN'S NOT DOING SO GOOD. PLEASE HURRY. –MH

_Oh hell! _I thought, _I've killed him!_

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So, what do you think? Please review. More to come! If you want to see anything happen, let me know!

-MW


	4. Chapter 4

Hey there! Thanks for all the wonderful reviews so far! You make me smile This is a short chapter.

-MW

VVVVVVVVVV

Sherlock POV

"Hurry up, cabbie!" I screamed. He stayed the same speed, ignoring me completely. "Look, my friend is in the hospital. Dying. If you don't go faster, pull over and I'll drive. No? Then _drive!_"

Now he seemed to see how serious I was. People these days...they don't understand what's important anymore. A business meeting isn't important. Your only friend's life? _That _is important. God, I should have just gotten into that ambulance.

VVVVVVVVVVVV

John POV

I woke up to Mycroft. Mycroft Holmes, of all people. Ugh.

"What are you doing here, Mycroft?"

"I'm glad you're awake."

"Where's Sherlock? He's not...dead is he?" I asked with hesitation.

"No, only busy. I sent him a text telling him to hurry up." He said, and then smiled. I knew Sherlock wouldn't listen to him...but Mycroft was smarter. He must have a way of making Sherlock get here faster. What exactly did he do?

"Want to see? It might interest you to know that the only way to get Sherlock to move is if you're hurt."

I read the text. I felt fine; I didn't understand why Mycroft would lie. Sherlock doesn't worry, anyways. I probably wouldn't see him for days. Honestly, I felt perfectly healthy. There's no reason for me to be in the hospital. I admit, I was sore, but that's nothing.

I closed my eyes and handed Mycroft back his phone. I didn't want to look at him. I was nearing sleep again when I heard heavy footsteps coming down the hallway and bursting through the door.

"John." He began, solemnly, "how much time do you have? I brought you biscuits. Mrs. Hudson made them fresh. She thought they might cheer you up. Thank God it's not too late."

"It's never going to be too late. I'm fine. Your brother sent the text to you to make you hurry up. I had no opinion in the matter."

Sherlock looked coldly at Mycroft, and then asked if I was actually okay. I nodded. I hoped to be home tonight. I wanted nothing more than to go home to my own bed and sleep. Maybe before bed, I'd have a drink. I think we had some beer in the fridge...

"Mycroft," Sherlock said, addressing his brother. The firmness in his voice startled me and my thoughts stopped cold. "Get out."

"Why?"

"Because I hate you. You can't tell me that my only friend is dying so you won't have to wait for me. I thought I was going to be too late, Mycroft!"

Mycroft stood, looking first at me, then to Sherlock. "You need to smarten up, Sherlock. If warning you. Anymore of these little games and I'll have you locked up. It's not safe-for anyone."

"Leave!" he shouted.

Mycroft finally obeyed. Sherlock calmed himself down then took a biscuit from the tin before them to me.

"I'm sorry." he said.

"Same."

"After you're out of here, I'll buy you dinner."

"You mean you'll take someplace where you know you eat for free?" I asked, laughing.

""Yes, but don't forget my date. You eat free too."

I laughed loudly. Why did everyone think we were a couple? Couldn't two men live together and just be friends? Actually, as I think about it...it didn't seem likely. I think I understand now. Well, at least Sherlock and I could joke about it.

"I don't care what people think so long as there's food in front of us. I'm absolutely starving."

He nodded in agreement. I knew he must be hungrier than I was. Before the case, he hadn't eaten at least two days. Then there was me who could barely stand missing breakfast. I had to remind myself that this was human. He...well, Sherlock was something else.

VVVVVVVVVVV

Sherlock POV

I could tell John was still in pain when we returned from dinner. I even had to help him up the stairs. Not that I minded. In fact, I was glad he let me help as it was the very least I could do. Once we were both seated on the couch, I unwrapped my arm from around his shoulders and looked at him. He wanted to say something. Something I didn't want to hear.

"Sherlock, do you want to talk about what happened?"

"Not really, no."

"I understand if you don't want to talk to me, but you have to talk to someone. That was a major event we went through. You'll go mad if you don't talk to someone. Believe me."

I didn't want to tell him how guilty I truly felt. I don't like being vulnerable. Perhaps one day I'll be ready to open up to him but not now. Not yet.

"I'm just sorry. I don't know what else to say. I don't want to talk."

"That's alright."

"Thank you. Besides, John, I have a plan to keep you out of danger. I know you'll still want to join me on my cases, so I've decided that I'm going to give myself full say of which cases you come on and which parts of the cases you help me with."

"That doesn't make me feel any better. I feel like a child."

"Well it was actually supposed to make me feel better."

"I see." He said, and then looked to the floor, awkwardly. "That doesn't really work for me. If anything, I'm more equipped for dealing with danger than you are. By far! The only reaon you save yourself is because you're smart and can avoid the danger."

Damn. He was right.

"Goodnight, John. I'm glad you're okay."

Maybe, whether I liked it or not, John already knew how vulnerable I was.

VVVVVVVVVVVV

Okay, that's that for that chapter. (That's a lot of "that's" in one sentence...) anyways, next chapter we'll get a look at our first relationship...Sherlock and Molly. WAIT! Don't panic...a lot of you don't like molly, but I really do. In fact, she reminds me a lot of... well...me. I want to write her into my story. I promise that john and Sherlock will still be best friends...

If you have anything to add to the story, I'll do my best to write it in as soon as possible.

-MW


	5. Chapter 5

Hello everyone! You're all wonderful! Thank you for the reviews thus far and, as always, if you have any suggestions, please let me know! I want the story to be perfect for EVEYONE!

-MW

**P.S.- PLEASE READ THE MESSAGE AT THE END OF THE CHAPTER! **(when you're done the chapter, of course)

VVVVVVVVVVVV

John POV

I didn't see Sherlock until the next afternoon. In fact, I slept nearly all day until four o'clock in the evening when I finally woke up. My stomach growled at me but right now I wanted nothing more than a hot shower.

As I went to get up, I felt a sharp pain in the back and legs. I figured I'd be in pain, but I didn't think it would be this bad. I bent forward, but my pain moved to my ribs. Slowly I laid myself back down. This wasn't going to be easy.

Should I call Sherlock? No. I could already imagine him studying me...the effect of pain on your ability to get out bed. That would go over well. I sighed. I guess I'd have to do this myself.

Maybe if I rolled over...

"AH!" I screamed at the intense pain in my abdomen. I was sure I hadn't cracked any ribs but maybe I was wrong. Being thrown into a solid brick wall clearly wasn't good for you.

"What's wrong?" I heard from the door.

"Damn. I hoped you wouldn't hear that. Now that you're here though, how about helping me get up."

"Sure."

To my surprise, he came right over to help me. No questions. I'm impressed.

Sherlock bent over, taking one of my hands in one of his and putting the other on my back. He pulled me up slowly, but it still hurt like hell. I couldn't let him see the pain though.

Once I was standing, he let go of me, but I moved too soon and nearly fell backwards. Sherlock put a hand on my back and one on my stomach to stabilize me, but it hurt.

"Damn!" I swore. He made an apologetic face then just left the room. I knew he felt he was doing more harm than good.

"Thanks, Sherlock." I called after him.

Now...onto my shower.

VVVVVVVVVV

Lestrade was sitting in our kitchen when I got out of the shower. It had taken a long time to get dressed and undressed, but I had done it. How embarrassing would it be if Sherlock had to help me with _that. _

"Hey Geoff."

"Hey. Have a nice sleep? You've been sleeping all day."

"Yeah. I needed it."

"I bet. You still sore? Sherlock said he had to help you out of bed. We heard you scream and-"

"I didn't scream," I said defensively, "How long have you been here?"

"Few hours."

What the hell? Why didn't anyone wake me? I wondered why Geoff was here. If he was here to get us on another case, I swear I'll kill him.

"Where's Sherlock?"

"He's getting milk."

Wow. That was nice.

"That's thoughtful. I always have to get it."

"Well, Mrs. Hudson made him."

"Ah, that sounds more realistic."

Of course. It was stupid to think Sherlock would get milk, something he hated, just to make my life easier. Well, I was incredibly happy that I wouldn't have to get it myself. Thank God for Mrs. Hudson. Now if she would just make him clean the flat...

Sherlock walked into the flat at that moment, as if on cue. The man certainly knew how to make a dramatic entrance. He had milk and both our jackets. He must have had them cleaned.

"Oh, you're done your shower."

"Yeah."

"I had our jackets cleaned. I figured you wouldn't want to wear one that was decorated with debris and pool water. I also got milk. Mrs. Hudson made me, so don't think I'm just being nice. Geoff can vouch for me."

"Why don't you want to be nice."

"Being nice isn't my style." He said simply. I'd never understand him. Perhaps that was better. I think I'd kill my brain if I tried to decipher his mind. "I don't cook but if you're hungry..." he said to me, trailing off.

"I'm fine."

In fact, I wasn't fine. I was starving and I could feel my legs buckling. God, this would be embarrassing. I steadied myself on a chair so as not to fall flat on the floor. Geoff noticed right away...Sherlock wasn't looking, thank goodness.

Geoff stood to help me into a chair. I nodded smiled shyly to thank him.

VVVVVVVVVVV

Sherlock POV

Lestrade left a little while later. I knew John was grateful he was gone. He'd been waiting all this time to eat without being impolite.

"You're starving."

He nodded, but then a thought came to his head. I couldn't for the life of me figure out what could possibly stress him as he is now. So I just asked.

"I forgot to call work. I'm going to be fire. I fell asleep at work, and now I've been late more than once and now I've missed it completely."

"You fell asleep at work."

"Yeah, but it was your fault. It was after we stayed up all night working on that case...with all the books? Remember?"

"I remember everything." I said simply. "But I phoned your work. Don't mind if I went into your agenda thingy for the number. You have the week off. I figured that you'd need exactly that much time to be able to walk without needing a chair-or Geoff- for support."

"You saw that?"

"Of course."

It had been quite funny actually. I would have helped into the chair but I couldn't let John know I was being nice-or that I found it kind of funny he was so vulnerable. It wasn't proper to laugh at someone in need, but it was just so contrasted from his brave soldier facade.

"Oh, and Sierra will be over later. After work, so around six thirty."

"Her name is Sarah, and thanks for warning me."

"Warning? I thought you liked her."

"I do, but not as a date anymore. I just want to be friends. I think I'll tell her when she comes over."

I really didn't want to be around for that. It was nearly half past five now. She'd be over in an hour. I needed to clear out of here. Maybe Molly would have Moriarty's body at the morgue.

"I'll go see Molly at the morgue. If Moriarty is there, he can be of use to me. I have a few experiments that are rather gruesome and I think there's no candidate better than him for a test subject."

John laughed and nodded, wishing me luck.

"-But be nice to Molly. She likes you, Sherlock."

"Yeah, yeah."

I left quickly, grabbing my newly cleaned jacket.

VVVVVVVVVVVV

When I got to the mortuary, I found Molly easily and quickly, but I hesitated upon seeing her. She didn't even notice me come in. Usually she spent the next five minutes straightening herself out when she thought I wasn't looking. And she _always _greeted me immediately.

She was turned away from me, staring at a body bag. I felt...I didn't even know. I just didn't want her to turn around because I was certain she was crying. It wasn't that I didn't want to deal with a crying woman-I had certainly dealt with many in my career, I just didn't want her to cry. Something inside me told me that she didn't deserve to be sad like this.

"Molly? Are you okay?"

She didn't answer. Maybe it was only the whole incident with the bomb that made me feel...emotions because for the first time, I felt deeply concerned for Molly.

What was happening to me?

"Jim is in this body bag. His body just arrived here." She said quietly.

I couldn't help noticing that her voice broke on the last word. She turned around and tried running past me but I stopped her. Oh God, I was an idiot. How could I forget that she was dating Jim? I felt terrible for coming here now-and to ask about her dead, lying boyfriend.

"I'm, uh, sorry for you loss." I said, turning her to face me. To my surprise, her eyes weren't red like people's eyes usually were when they cried. They were sprinkled with tears and a few fell down her cheeks. It was a good thing she didn't wear much makeup or it would have been all over her face. She didn't actually need makeup though. I regretted telling her to wear lipstick. I was such a jerk.

I could never admit this to anyone.

"Not much of a loss. I don't know why I'm actually crying. I guess I just feel a little stupid for dating someone who tried to kill you and John. I'm really sorry, Sherlock. I should have known. "

Oh god, she was blaming herself? I felt even worse.

"It wasn't your fault. You couldn't have possibly known who he was. He can fool anyone. Even me. Come here."

I pulled her into a hug. Damn women...all of them. They're so-there's no word. Women are so complex and puzzling. I never understood them before, and perhaps I never would, but I knew that for most of them, a hug could make them feel a bit better. I even liked it. Men should do this more often. They should grab a woman they know needs love and just hug them. I've never had anyone to hug before now, but I understood how calming it was.

I liked the hug, but I hated the fact that I liked it. What had even compelled me to do this?

It was that power that women had over men. I'd always thought myself immune to this. I suppose no man is. Women are the worst and best things on this entire planet.

"Thanks Sherlock." She said, pulling away.

"For what?"

"I don't know. Just for understanding."

"Well, it's not hard to understand that none of this is your fault. Say, Molly, when does your shift end?"

"Oh, it ended a while ago. I'm just here."

"So you're free for dinner?"

VVVVVVVVVVVVV

Okay, what do you think? I promise Sherlock will sort out all his "feelings."

**PLEASE READ!: **for all women out there, I actually asked my friend (who is a boy) to describe what he thought of women. Everything I wrote about women is in his exact words...about the power they have over men and how they confuse him...he said everything so perfectly. See, I just wanted to write accurately what a woman meant to a man from a man's point of view. Being a woman, I had no clue...now I know. I'm sure this isn't the opinion of all men, but it is the opinion of good men. So, girls, tell me what you think of my friend's opinion and I'll pass the message along to him.


	6. Chapter 6

Hello everyone! Thank you again for all your wonderful reviews. Any feedback is always appreciated. Holmes is starting to get a bit out of character, but I promise you he'll be back to his regular fantastic self in no time!

-Myelle

LOTS OF DIALOGUE IN THIS CHAPTER (just a warning if it's a little annoying)

VVVVVVVVVVV

John POV

Just say it, I told myself. I had to tell her. Why was breaking up so hard? It should be easy for the one breaking it off.

"Sarah, I don't think we should see each other anymore."

"Why?"

"Because I have too much on my mind and I really can't handle a relationship right now. Not after Sherlock and the bomb. It's just too much. You're a great girl, but I just can't do it."

"I understand, John. We were kind of slipping away from each other anyways." She said gently.

Thank God she was so understanding. If this had been one of his previous girlfriends, they would have absolutely killed him. One almost did!

Sarah got up, kissed my forehead and told me to get better.

Well, that wasn't _so _bad. But now I was bored. I sat for approximately twenty minutes in silence before pulling out my phone. I wondered when Sherlock was coming home. Since the man was so unpredictable, sending a quick text was the best way to get an answer.

WHERE ARE YOU? SHOULD I GET TAKE AWAY FOR DINNER? JW

Within seconds, my phone beeped at me.

BUSY. I TOOK MOLLY TO DINNER. YOU CAN EAT WHATEVER YOU LIKE. SH

What? _WHAT?_ Sherlock took _Molly _to dinner? What the hell is wrong with him? I really hoped he wasn't using her. But I wasn't sure if that was better than if he had actually had feelings for her. I didn't think I would like seeing Sherlock in love. God, the man was so unpredictable.

VVVVVVVVVV

Sherlock POV

Dinner was most likely the best meal I've ever had in my life. Well, the food was of a rather poor quality but Molly was excellent company. I walked her home before catching the underground back to Baker Street.

The whole way home, I reflected on what happened- my new _feelings. _I didn't like the change, but I liked Molly. For the first time in a very long time, I believe I was confused.

I walked into the flat, greeted by a very unhappy looking John who glared at me from the sofa.

"Um-I don't know what I did this time, but I'm...sorry?" I said. I wasn't sure if he wanted an apology but it couldn't do any harm.

"Sherlock, tell me why you took molly to dinner. What were your intentions?"

"God, John, please don't tell me that you broke up with Sarah for Molly because that would just be terribly inconvenient."

"No-" he paused in frustration the sighed. "I just don't want you to hurt her. You shouldn't use her, if that's what you're doing. But dinner is a little farfetched for just getting to a body. So tell me why you took her out."

I sighed and sat beside him. My weight on the sofa beside him made move a little and he flinched. I apologized quickly, but he told me to get on with my explanation. So I did.

"I went to go see Moriarty's body and she was there, as I expected, but I had completely forgotten that she had dated him. And she was crying, John. I made her turn around, and she looked pretty when she cried. Not that I ever want to see it again, but it wasn't making her look bad the way crying usually does. Why am I telling you all this?"

I stopped abruptly, realizing that I was sounding overemotional. I didn't want that impression on John. But maybe he could help me. He was, after all, quite an expert on women. That with his natural advantages, he should know lots on the subject. More than I would, anyways.

"Because you don't understand. Tell me the rest."

"Anyways, I had forgotten about her dead boyfriend and I felt horrible. I wanted to help. Then, I realized that most women felt better if they had a hug, so I hugged her and I liked it so then I offered to take her to dinner and then we ate, and had a great conversation and then I walked her home and I-"

"You're talking way too fast. And I think everything you just said was one sentence."

"It was three, John. Pay better attention."

He sighed, clearly annoyed.

"So, let me get this straight. You saw Molly, felt sorry for her and realized suddenly that you loved her?"

"I never said love."

"Yeah, but it sure seems like it. I think you have feelings for Molly."

"Do women always do this to men? It's rather annoying. How do I get rid of the feelings? I don't want them."

"You don't get rid of them, Sherlock. People hide them but it's hard sometimes. I don't recommend that in your case. You've already shown her you're interested so you'd only hurt her more if you stopped showing your interest."

"This is so stupid, John. I have no time for _feelings. _Stop laughing!" I commanded.

John was in fits of hysterical laughter. He told me it was funny to see me confused. He joked he'd have to take a picture for Lestrade, but I shut him up when I told him I wouldn't take him on cases anymore. I made a mental note to remember that the next time he annoyed me.

I had been a machine before. A brain-the rest of me mere appendix. I had run myself on problems. Now, I could feel. And I felt hate for it. How confusing.

VVVVVVVVVVVV

Kudos to you if you caught the many references to the books in this chapter (the the brain/appendix thing) not time to edit!

-MW


	7. Chapter 7

Hello everyone. I'm sorry for taking so much time to update...I hope you can remember what happened.

-MW

As strange as it may seem there are **spoilers for Shutter Island** in this chapter...trust me...just read. But if you haven't seen the ending, I'm severely sorry. And for the record, I SO called the ending half way through the movie. I was thrilled so I decided to add that in.

VVVVVVVVVVV

John POV

The next morning, I was woken up by the sound of breaking glass. I rushed from my room to see what happened, completely expecting Sherlock to be responsible for it. I wondered how many new plates we were going to have to buy.

Sure enough, when I got to the kitchen, where the sound had come from, Sherlock was bent on the floor picking up glass.

"You're an idiot." I said, "Look at your hands, there's glass sticking out of them."

"There is?"

I'll never know how he couldn't have noticed before I pointed it out, but Sherlock had visible shards of glass embedded in his hands. He looked at his hands more thouroughly as if he had just discovered they were there. Then he went back to picking up the glass with his bare hands. There was blood all them. The man was a complete idiot.

"That's enough. Stand up and go sit on the couch. I'll clean it up."

"But then you'll get glass in _your _hands and you'll be of no use to either of us."

I sighed. Sometimes he was so stupid.

"We have a broom, Sherlock."

I got the broom out of the closet and cleaned the glass while Sherlock watched from the couch. I could tell he hadn't even known we had a broom. It hurt to bend down and pick up all the glass in the dust pan. I ached everywhere and the pain didn't seem like it would diminish any time soon.

Before I went to Sherlock, I pulled out a pair of tweezers, some antiseptic and a long tensor bandage from my work bag in my room. The stairs weren't good for my legs, but that glass couldn't possibly be good for Sherlock's hand and that was most important right now.

When I sat down on the couch, I just stared at him, waiting for him to explain. He clearly didn't understand.

"What the hell? Why were you even in the kitchen at-" I looked at the clock. Jesus. "Two-thirty! Ugh!"

"I was hungry and Mrs. Hudson never wakes up this early. I figured I would try cooking and took a bowl form the cupboard because she always mixes eggs in a bowl before she cooks them but then I saw the stove and I gave up. It wasn't worth burning the house down for eggs."

"So you smashed the bowl?"

"No. Well, yes, but I didn't mean to. I tried to put it away but I didn't open the cupboard enough and I hit my head. Then I put my hand on the inside of the cupboard and a few more dishes fell." He said. He was clearly embarrassed. It was kind of a funny story.

I resisted the urge to laugh at him because if I laughed he'd leave and his hands would get infected. And it would have been my fault. So i kept quiet.

"Give me your hands."

He lifted them and I saw clearly the extent of his injuries. I felt sympathetic towards him-he'd be in pain for days.

"Why didn't you think to stop picking up the glass when it started impaling your hands, Sherlock? That was rather dumb, don't you think?"

"I was distracted."

"With what?"

"Cleaning the glass."

I laughed. I couldn't hold it in. The sheer ignorance of his pain was just-ridiculous. That what Sherlock was. He was ridiculous.

I took up the tweezers and began pulling the first piece of glass from his hands. He flinched and I told him that pulling out the glass would hurt more than when it went in. He closed his eyes at the pain and I studied his face. He looked out of place-in pain and actually showing it. I knew he was ashamed and embarrassed but he really shouldn't be. I was glad to help even if it was at...well, three in the morning now.

When I got to the last piece of glass I hesitated.

"Sherlock this one is going to hurt."

"They all hurt."

"No, look at your hands. Open your eyes."

He saw what I meant. The last piece of glass that was embedded in his hand covered half way across his palm and stuck out about an inch and a half. I purposely left this one until last because I didn't even know where to begin. I didn't want to hurt him but I didn't want him to get infected. And I couldn't leave him to take it out alone. If the glass wasn't taken out gently, it could leave shards behind in his hands. If that happened, there would be no way of getting it out without surgically removing it.

"Just do it." he said quietly.

"Are you sure?"

"Well, it has to come out sooner or later. The longer we leave it in, the more it'll hurt."

I nodded and took the tweezers to his hand. He flinched and gritted his teeth. I slowly pulled out the glass. It actually amazed me how deep it went. I was surprised it hadn't gone directly through his hand. He closed his eyes again and bent his head back, trying to resist the urge to move his hand against the pain. It was obvious he was trying to hide his vulnerability from me. But we lived together. I'd seen him worse.

"All done. Are you alright?"

"Of course I'm alright." He said, but his hands were shaking. For his sake, I didn't point it out.

"Well, since we're up and it's nearly time to get out of bed-if we had been in bed- why don't we watch a film?"

"Do we own films?"

"Well, no but we can buy one off the telly. I've seen them there before."

Sherlock said that would be fine and began searching the channels for a decent film. Apparently he was picking the movie. He told me he got to chose because he was the 'wounded' one. I did feel bad for him so I just let him.

I got up to get myself a beer while he was busy searching. We could honestly be here all night. He told me to get one for him and I stopped dead in my tracks.

"You drink?"

"Of course. Who doesn't?"

"Well, you don't eat half the time so I figured you'd have some kind of rule about alcohol... maybe that it destroys valuable brain cells or something."

"I obviously have rules and restrictions to my personal alcohol consumption but only when I'm on a case. Otherwise, I'll drink. Can you get me a beer?"

"Uh, sure."

I was a little surprised. I laughed to myself. I was always surprised when it came to Sherlock. Why should his drinking habits be any different?

When I got back, I handed him his beer then risked a glance at his choice of movie on the telly. _Shutter Island..._ God, could he be any stranger?

"You only picked this because you want to solve the surprise ending before the character does."

"You've seen it."

"No, but I've heard about the ending."

"Well I haven't but you can't go wrong with a film about an in investigation to a mental asylum."

I sighed.

"I still can't believe you're drinking a beer." I simply couldn't let the subject go. Seeing Sherlock so casual with his feet upon the coffee table and beer in his hand-it was so weird.

"I told you, I drink only when I don't have a case. In fact, I had a few glasses of wine with Molly last night."

"I'm glad."

"No you're not. You're jealous. Not of Molly for having me, of course, but of me for having Molly."

He was always right.

VVVVVVVVVV

Ooooohhhhhh...What do I mean by that? You'll just have to wait and see. Please review.

_MW


	8. Chapter 8

**For the anonymous reviewer: **I can completely understand your aversion to Molly/ Sherlock, but as I said, the story will eventually be John/Sherlock. Also, not to be rude because I really don't mean it rudely, this is my story and if I want a Molly/Sherlock relationship, I'm going to have it. I appreciate your review and I understand that you're a little confused as to why Sherlock is suddenly into Molly, but you have to remember that this is fiction-a story and nothing more. Thanks for expressing your opinion.

**To everyone else: **thanks for the reviews thus far and I hope you are enjoying the story. If you have any suggestion, please let me know in a review or private message. Also, if you add me to story alert, could you please send a review? It only takes a minute. Thanks again to everyone! Hugs to all!

-Myelle

VVVVVVVVVVVVV

John POV

I was jealous of him. Of course I was. Who wouldn't be? He was smarter than Einstein and every woman (and I'm sure some men too) finds him attractive. Twenty four hours a day, Sherlock is surrounded by women who throw themselves at him. And he doesn't even know. Well, he probably does. He probably just doesn't care.

And Molly, of all people, was the woman he chooses to love. Well, I still had my doubts, but he seemed genuinely interested in her. I just couldn't imagine why he didn't choose some movie star or something. He could certainly have the attention of one of the more beautiful Hollywood stars-if he wanted it. Molly was great but I would always be confused as to why it was her who captured him.

Sherlock studied my face the entire time I was thinking. I hadn't realized he was staring at me.

"John, let's just watch the film."

"Sure."

It was now nearly four in the morning. I turned down the volume so Mrs. Hudson wouldn't be disturbed. As I had expected, Sherlock guessed the 'surprise' ending within the first twenty minutes. Regardless of my expectation, I was still surprised he could have gotten it that fast. I'd never get used to him.

VVVVVVVVVVV

Sherlock POV

John fell asleep halfway though our film. I could tell he was trying to stay awake but failing miserably. I found it almost amusing how all of a sudden he just slumped over the side of the settee. The impact of the arm of the sofa didn't even wake him up. Therefore, he was completely exhausted and his body had made him sleep. Clearly, he had no say in the matter.

The film was great. Obviously, the man was in a mental asylum as a patient. That was the only conclusion after studying all the facts.

It made me think. What if I was just a pawn in a game like that. What if I were merely a character. A fictional being for people to play with every once in a while. Impossible. Or-I thought- I could be dead. And life right now was purgatory, if there even was such a thing. Who knew? I was fairly certain that there was nothing left after death, but who was I to decide. I decide who kills victims, not where they go once their dead. I shouldn't waste my mind of such trivial thoughts.

I got up, ready for my own dose of sleep when I took one last look at John. He looked quite uncomfortable lying there with his neck all bent and his spine twisted to the curves of the sofa. There was a throw behind him so I evened him out so he looked relatively comfortable then draped the throw over him.

VVVVVVV

It was half eight when I woke up. John was still asleep on the sofa; I'd leave him for a while. Obviously he was still worn out from waking up so early-and cleaning my wounds. I looked guiltily down at my hands.

I should give him a day off.

Quietly, so as not to disturb John, I got dressed, put on my coat and left, remembering to take my phone with me.

To my surprise, Mrs. Hudson was by the door with a case.

"Where are you going?" I asked. She gave me an exasperated look before telling me. Something told me I should already know this.

"To visit my sister, Sherlock. I told you and John weeks ago and then reminded you yesterday. Don't burn down the house. Please, I'm begging you- no experiments. John said he'd keep an eye on you for me."

"Sure he did-"

"What about you? Where are you off to so early in the morning? It's not like you."

"I don't know. John needs a day off so I'm just removing myself from the flat for a bit."

"Don't be gone too long, dear. There are plenty of men in these parts that have a liking to him. If you leave him too long, he'll be taken away."

"Mrs. Hudson, John and I are not a couple."

"Don't worry dear, I know lots of gay men-"

"Stop." I said firmly.

I could tell her about my recent date with Molly but why waste my breath? It didn't matter if John and I were considered a couple. If she had nothing wrong with it then why not? Of course, if she were offended by our supposed relationship, I'd tell her more firmly that we're not partners, but it matter right now.

I saw Mrs. Hudson off then hopped in my own taxi on my way to Scotland Yard. I needed a case.

VVVVVVVVVVVVV

So, I'm sorry it took a while to get this chapter up. My stepbrother was in the hospital. I'm very sorry for taking *looks at calendar and gasps* almost a week to post this, but I'm sure you understand I had more important things on my mind.

Not that you guys aren't important, in fact, I sincerely love getting your reviews. So keep em coming!

_MW


	9. Chapter 9

THANK YOU to my readers in Suriname. You've just become my 80th country that has more than 100 readers in it this month. So congratulations to you and thank you very much!

To everyone else: I want to hug you all. You're all so wonderful! Please keep reviewing!

VVVVVVVVVV

Sherlock POV

"I need a case."

"Well tough, Sherlock. I don't have one! I'm still doing paper work from your last charade."

"Charade?"

"Get out. I'll call you if I have something for you."

I left quickly, taking the same taxi I had told to wait for me. Perhaps Molly would have work for me. If not, I could still go visit her. Maybe even do some of _her_ work. She's always terribly busy. _But never too busy for me_, I thought, almost proudly.

"Molly," I addressed her when I got into the mortuary, "good to see you."

"Hey Sherlock."

Molly looked at me strangely as if she hadn't seen me before. If things were always this awkward after having dinner with a colleague, I would never bother with it again. But then she smiled shyly.

We were still on good terms. Excellent. Though, her smile was still a bit held in and it looked like it hurt a little. From this, I could see she was hurt, most likely by my presence. Therefore, she thought I didn't like her. Final conclusion: Molly thought our dinner was a lapse in my judgement.

I have to admit though; at first I had thought the same thing. I'd prove both of us wrong.

"Molly, do you have any work for me? I'm giving John a day off-from me-and"

"And you got bored." She finished me sentence.

"Yeah."

"I don't have any work. Actually, I've just been reading all day."

Perfect. Now was my chance.

"Book any good? Because if it isn't, and you don't have any work...would you like to go for a breakfast-" I looked at my watch-"well, lunch now I suppose."

"Sure."

Molly clocked out for her lunch hour then we were on our way. I was starving and hated dining alone. Lunch would be good today.

Meals were so boring before these past weeks. Since John moved in, I found eating with someone was much better, even if it was only him eating. Before John, I rarely ate at all.

VVVVVVVVVVVVV

John POV

When I awoke, I was lying on the couch with a throw over me. Clearly the only one responsible for making me comfortable was Sherlock. That was a little weird. What happened to the "high-functioning sociopath?"

WHERE ARE YOU? JW

JUST FINISHED LUNCH WIHT MOLLY. WHY? SH

I quickly typed the non-neediest reply I could think of. Couldn't have Sherlock thinking I needed him-could I?

I'M BORED. WHEN ARE YOU COMING HOME? JW

Still sounded needy. Damn.

I'M GIVING YOU A DAY OFF. SH

I DON'T WANT ONE. JW

IN THAT CASE I'LL SEE YOU IN TEN. SH

What a strange man. I mentally checked over my behaviour over the last few days. What would possibly compel him to believe that I needed a day off from him? I needed a day off from cases and work, but not necessarily him. Unless he had found a case while I was out; this was perfectly plausible.

When he got in, he sat down on the sofa and sighed-loudly. He explained his day out and asked me if I had known about Mrs. Hudson's taking leave.

"She told us weeks ago and then she even reminded you yesterday."

"well, she should have reminded me this morning. Or left a note."

"She did. It says 'Sherlock, don't burn down your flat. Keep it clean so John won't accidently kill himself on your experiments.' I found the note slipped under our door. You must have walked right past it."

"I don't walk past anything."

I hope he realized how stupid that sentence was. He gave himself a confused look-yup, he realized.

"So, why would Molly have a case for you?"

"Not a case, John, a body."

"Oh. Well did you enjoy lunch?"

"Yeah. We actually spent lunch talking about cures for boredom."

I laughed. I'm not surprised he spent a meal conversing about boredom. It seemed to be all on his mind save for when he had a case.

VVVVVVVVVVVVVV

THIS IS A SHORT CHAPTER FOR A REASON!

This ends segment one. (The conclusion of the bombing...etc.) Next segment contains a kidnapping case that John is very much involved in...Should prove to be interesting.

There will always be a time lapse between segments so you'll know when a new case is beginning.


	10. Chapter 10

SEGMENT TWO BEGINS NOW!

Just to brief you, this is going to be full of angst and well...it's a kidnapping scene. And torture. That reminds me-from now on this story is rated T for severe violence and a few gruesome torture scenes.

I promise after this segment, I'm moving on to lighter, funnier, and happier material.

Hugs to everyone for reading and reviewing! As always, if you want anything in the story, let me know and I'll do my best to incorporate it.

-MW

VVVVVVVVVVVVV

John POV

It's been two months since Sherlock got all that glass in his hands and they had healed wonderfully, despite his aversion to bandages.

I went back to work and had to explain the story as best I could to all my co-workers. Honestly, I hadn't thought they even knew my name before I took an entire week off. They knew now. On my time off, they had to take all my patients. Of course they weren't too happy about that and wanted full explanation of why they were dealing with an extra ten tummy-aches or headaches every day.

Sherlock had absolutely no cases in the two months since I returned to work and without me to entertain him at the flat, he dug himself deeper and deeper into the black abyss that was boredom. I wasn't surprised.

I _was _surprised, however to come home and find the wall and tables in perfect condition when I got home every day from work. He had taken to cleaning.

"Sherlock," I began one day upon getting home, "did you _clean_?"

"Yeah. I was bored. I regret it immensely."

"Why? The place looks cleaner than it did when we moved in."

"Well, before I could find anything because there was a good chance it was on the floor. I can't remember where I put anything now."

Though he told me he hated cleaning, I would get home and everything would be in its proper position. And he always argued that his reasoning behind the cleanliness of the flat was simply boredom.

He needed a case. I felt sympathy for him-sitting around all day waiting for me to get home. And when I got home I was usually much to tired to do anything. It goes without mention that most our evenings were spent in front of the tellie.

Tonight, however, was different. I had begun to feel guilty for Sherlock's captivity in our flat so I offered to take him somewhere.

"Where do you want to go, Sherlock? Anywhere you want-on me."

"Actually, can we just go for a walk? Regent's park isn't far and I think I've been gaining weight from my immobility." He smiled.

I laughed and agreed.

As we walked, we were trapped in an awkward silence. I watched all the couples strolling along the paths in front and beside us. I cleared my throat to speak.

"Sherlock, this would be a nice place to bring Molly sometime."

"Yeah, but I don't think she likes me so much anymore."

"What?"

I was genuinely in shock at his statement. Molly was absolutely obsessed with him. It was her dream come true to date him. She had that 'fairy tale ending' that all women pretended they didn't want. And Sherlock was a great boyfriend from what I've seen of them. He was always early for their dates and brought her flowers when he felt he was beginning to 'lose her' which happened a lot. What could possibly be the problem?

"I think I bore her."

What?

"She hangs off your every word. How could you bore her? I think you're just _worried_ that she doesn't like you."

"Don't be ridiculous. I don't worry."

"Please. You're actually one of the more worrisome people that I know."

"Shut up."

I obeyed.

"I didn't mean _actually_ shut up." He said after a while. Maybe five minutes? I wasn't sure. "I prefer if you're talking because then I won't get bored." He sighed. "I need case John. Not just those little cases that I solve within a day. I need a case that keeps me on end for weeks. Something that robs me of sleep and food...I wish Moriarty had held up his promise of abducting people –or torture-because then I would have something to do."

"Hey. Be careful what you wish for, Sherlock. What if one of his followers-or whatever you'd prefer to call them- took Molly?"

"Then I'd get her back."

"What if you were too late?"

His face twisted for one moment. I could see I had made a very valid point.

"I'd rather not think about it. Can I take a wish back?" he asked innocently. I shook my head no and he looked even more worried than before.

"Sherlock, just because you wished for it doesn't mean it absolutely _has _to happen. It probably won't. It's not very likely that Molly will get abducted. Barely anyone knows you're dating so if nobody knows then how can they use her to get to you?"

"Is that why she'd be kidnapped? Someone wants to get to me?"

"No-Jesus, Sherlock. Don't take everything I say so seriously. It's just one possible scenario. Listen to me; _no one _is going to take Molly. Okay?"

He nodded.

VVVVVVVVVVV

Sherlock POV

My mind rebels at stagnation. I suppose my constant need to fuel my brain is balance. Balance meaning-I have a wonderful brain but need nonstop problems and work to fuel it.

I had hoped, when John offered to take me somewhere, that there would be someone we knew in the park or something interesting would happen. So much happened in parks that went unnoticed. Events as big as drug deals or sights as simple as fighting couples.

Now, back at the flat, I sat with John on the sofa watching the tellie. Typical. Mundane. Ordinary. Commonplace. Usual. Dull. Boring. I hate this pause of crime.

Earlier, when I had wished that Moriarty would keep good on his promise of destruction, I had meant it. Well, until John told me that Molly would be involved.

I was officially a 'boyfriend.' I never thought I would be but I had a girlfriend and I was enjoying myself. I often had thoughts of Molly running off with other people and that made me desperate to keep her. I felt possessive of her and I think she knew that. And I think she doesn't like that.

I think she finds me too much to handle. More than she 'bargained for,' per se.

Not my problem. I was just happy to have her, regardless of my crushed reputation of being dispassionate. It wasn't so bad to lose my reputation because I gained a new one at the loss of the old one. Now, I had a reputation for being unpredictable.

VVVVVVVVVVVV

John POV

"I'm bored." Sherlock whined from his chair.

"I know but just hang on. I'm sure something will pop up. Lestrade is smart, but not _that _smart. He'll find something too difficult soon."

I tried encouraging him to keep waiting. I couldn't imagine what would happen if he stayed dormant for too long. Two months was killing him.

"John, I can't stand waiting. You of all people should know that."

"I know all too well..." I mumbled to myself.

"What?"

"Nothing. I'm sure something will-"

I stopped, my brain suddenly tossing with ideas.

"John?"

"Don't mind me. I'm just tired...uh, I forgot what I was saying."

I had a plan. I'd need help-a lot of it. And possibly a weekend to initiate it, but if it was case Sherlock wanted, a case he would get.

VVVVVVVVVVV

Thus concludes segment two, part one. (Chapter ten)

Please review! I appreciate all comments!


	11. Chapter 11

**PLEASE READ: **I'm so sorry for taking so long to update. I'm sure many of you have forgotten what has happened so far so i will do a recap in a few sentences...to explain for my lack of updates, I will tell you that my writing software crashed and this thing I'm using right now is very annoying with no spell check. I'm very sorry for my mistakes. (Especially the capitals...my shift bar is acting up) but desperate times call for desperate measures and I really needed to update quickly. So please forgive me for any trouble this is to read. And if you put me on story alert please review: D

**RECAP: ** It's been two months since the event at the pool. Sherlock is dating Molly and John is very confused as to why but stays silent. Even Sherlock is confused. Sherlock has had no cases so John wants to give him one to help him out of his bored state. (Sherlock was so bored once that he cleaned...enough said) so John develops a plan and that's where we left off. (In case you are wondering, the plan wasn't revealed yet...all in good time my friends.)

Sherlock will be a bit OOC from now on since he is in love with molly...(and soon John! I can't wait)

VVVVVVVVVVVVV

John POV

My plan was working. I had Lestrade ready to cooperate with me. I had been surprised when he agreed to help me but when I asked him and he told me why, it all made sense.

"I'll help because Sherlock is being a pain in the ass. Plus, I know he hasn't really been himself since the pool and a case will change him."

I had thanked him and gone to find a cab to take me to a little dinner where I was meeting Molly.

I was glad when I arrived to see she was already there and I didn't have wait. But then I felt guilty for keeping her waiting. Nothing was ever just _good. _There was always something dragging me down. I sighed and stepped into the dinner.

"Hi, Molly. it's so great to see you again. It's been awhile." I said, kissing her cheek.

Sherlock had often taken her to the flat but she hadn't been over in nearly three weeks and with no cases, there was no excuse for me to be at Bart's hospital where she worked so i scarcely saw her.

"I know. You and Sherlock should come by my flat sometime. I miss your company. i dont see much of Sherlcok either."

"Really? How are things with you two then? He never talks to me about his relationships...well, you're the only one really so he never talks to me about his relation_ship."_

She laughed and told me things were great-she just didn't see him often.

"So there's a reason I'm here, right? I can't remember what you said over the phone very well-"

"Right. Well, as you know, Sherlock hasn't actually had a case since his game with Jim."

She literally flinched at my words and I apologized and carried on. "Anyways, I had an idea to make a case for him. I'm going to, with the help of a few friends, you self included, stage a kidnapping. A murder wouldn't do and neither would a suicide. Well, a suicide would work if we had someone willing to pretend they committed suicide but I don't think we'd find anyone. I'd do it myself but Sherlock wouldn't know I wouldn't ever dare commit such an act and he'd know the case was false. So kidnapping it is. Don't worry though; you aren't the one being kidnapped. Sherlock would absolutely die if it was you. He loves you too much."

She smiled widely and I smiled back.

"So I'll be the one being kidnapped. I have a friend who was more than willing to help me with the staging process. Sherlock's friend from Scotland Yard, Geoff Lestrade will be helping him solve the case."

"Sounds fun. For everyone. Sherlock will have a case and you get to hang out with a friend. Good idea, John. But what do you need me to do?"

"Sherlock might come questioning you so I just wanted you to know that it's all fake. You don't have to answer any question. Just say you don't know anything if that happens. It might take a few days so I'm just here basically to warn you that you won't be seeing much of him for the days he's on the case. You know how he is with work."

"Okay." She said nodding. "I think I'd be worried if hadn't been told it was fake. Thanks. I'll see you after the case?"

"Sure. I'm sure Sherlock will bring you over when he's done working."

We parted on good terms, as always and I made my way back to Baker Street. The plan would be in effect immediately as soon I returned. I could hardly wait.

VVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVV

Sherlock POV

I remember sitting in the chair parallel to the window at our flat in Baker Street. It was late and John wasn't home yet. I was contemplating calling him to ask where he was when I heard the cry from the street below. A man. Probably between ages 30-40. Brave but needed help-obvious because he was yelling for it.

I remember my excitement as I realized this meant a new case-or at least a good solid hour of police questions. How I loved bothering the police with false answers.

I remember looking down through the window and I especially remember running like hell when I saw John being forced into the back of a silver van.

I got to the street and John was already inside the van, staring out the slightly tinted windows.

"John! Let him go!" I yelled to his captor.

The man jumped into the driver's seat on the other side of the van and drove away. I ran as fast as I could after it but not even my knowledge of the London streets could help me. I had no clue where they were going and whoever was driving was too fast to catch on foot.

I took out my phone and dialed Lestrade's number. I didn't wait for him to say hello before I started to talk.

"John's been abducted. I saw it."

"Okay. I'll send a few men over and I'll get there as soon as I can."

I hung up on him and went back inside. Mrs. Hudson met me on the stairs and I tried to explain what happened. I ignored her questions and paced inside the flat. I needed to think. _Really _think. Whatever this is, it's most likely set for me. Why would anyone want to take _John? _He's never done anything really wrong so far as I know so why would someone take him? The only possible answer was to get to me.

I sighed. This had happened before-many times. As soon as I started to like anything it was taken away. I knew deep inside me that this was the real reason I chose to be cold and emotionless. Emotions really didn't affect cases _that _much. I'm sure many emotional policemen do their jobs very well. No, cases and detective work had nothing to do with my detached facade. The reason I was so distant was because I didn't want to have anything taken away. Not again.

I tried to think of other things but I couldn't help the fact that I had never once gotten anything that was taken away back. I had no hope of finding John.

But why wouldn't they take Molly? Maybe they already did...

I pulled my phone out again.

"Molly, thank God you answered."

"Why wouldn't I?" I heard her confused voice ask.

"Because John's been taken and I have reason to believe that whoever abducted him wanted to hurt me by taking away something I liked. I thought that they might already have you."

"D you want me to come over and help you find him?"

"No. Stay where you are. Lock your doors. Right now! I can't get to you right now but I'll make Lestrade send someone over."

"Am I in danger, Sherlock?" she asked quietly. She didn't sound scared though. So brave. Just like John used to be-no-just like John _is. _He's not gone. Not yet.

"I don't know. To be safe though, have my number readily dialed in your phone. Even if you just send a plain text, I'll be there."

"No. Concentrate on finding John."

"Molly I'm serious. If I lost both of you-"

I didn't finish. There was a silence on the phone and now she knew I wasn't kidding. It was true though. John was my best friend and I was in love with Molly. If whoever took John took Molly too I don't think I'd ever be able to live with myself.

Now that I'd established that I was, in fact, human and that I did care for John, nothing had been the same. Since the pool I got funny feelings of worry when John would take an extra few minutes getting home from the store or when he fell behind talking to someone or looking at something when we were out.

And if they took Molly...that would be it for me.

"I'll lock the doors." she said, almost in a whisper.

"Stay in one room that you can hide easily in."

"Okay."

"I love you." I said slowly, letting the words drip off my tongue. If this was the last time I got to say it I wanted her to know I meant it.

"I love you too, Sherlock. Be careful."

I waited until she hung up her phone to hang up my own. Lestrade's car lights were flashing outside. This would be a long night.

VVVVVVVVVVVVV

Once again, I'm sorry for any delays and it won't happen again. If you put me on story alert, author alert r anything else, please review. I'd like to know what you liked and if you want me to change anything.

And I'm sorry for the mistakes in the grammar and spelling. There's no spell check on this program but I'm getting my new writing software very soon so next chapter will be great!

Thanks to everyone still reading. I love you all. HUGS!


	12. Chapter 12

This chapter, I am straying from my usual Sherlock/John POV's. I am going to try something else...but don't worry. I've already told myself that it's a bad idea.

Please review and tell me how I did.

-MW

VVVVVVVVVV

Molly POV

When Sherlock hung up the phone I felt guilt surge over me. I knew from the moment he began to speak that John was the wrong choice for the victim. Never had I heard Sherlock sound so distraught and unconfident. And worried. He sounded worried for John and me. I shouldn't be doing this.

It was wrong to participate in John's plan. Not that it was his fault. I guess we both hadn't expected Sherlock to care for him so much. This was wrong. This was so dishonest. I wanted to tell him it would be okay-that John would be alright.

I knew John wouldn't like that. He was my friend now and I wanted to help him with his plan but Sherlock was my boyfriend and I wanted to help him feel better. If I told Sherlock, John would be angry and Sherlock would retreat back into boredom. But if I told, Sherlock wouldn't be scared.

Well, a healthy dose of fear was good every now and then. It would all be over soon and whether Sherlock knew it or not, John would be safe again. I wonder if Sherlock would be upset that we tricked him. Probably.

I didn't want him to hate me. Or worse-not even acknowledge me the way he had for years before that one day when he finally asked me to dinner. I would _not _go back to that. If this whole plan made Sherlock hate me, I would quit my job and move away.

I should call him and tell him. That might minimize the damage on our relationship. If I told, he might appreciate the honesty.

Key word: _might. _

VVVVVVVVVVVVV

Geoff Lestrade POV

_Poor bastard, _I thought as I arrived at Sherlock and John's flat.

I could tell immediately upon seeing him that this wasn't going to be a normal case. In a normal case, Sherlock would be bouncing with energy, excitement and anticipation. Something was wrong with him. I'd ask but he'd probably tear me apart for 'caring.'

Psychopath...no wait, _high functioning sociopath. _

No, I didn't believe that. Something was wrong and there were two possible explanations. One: he was sick. But Sherlock doesn't get sick. Two: he missed or was worried about john. I didn't believe he was sick. He wanted John back, therefore he was definitely not a sociopath. And wasn't he dating someone?

Who knows?

Maybe I should just ask. Who cares if he hates being worried about?

"Sherlock, are you okay?"

"That's a stupid question."

I sighed and followed him as he led me to the spot where the vehicle had taken off from. I don't know what I was supposed to look for but for the first time, I think Sherlock thought I could actually help him. So to humour him I bent down and looked at the faint track marks the van had made.

He balanced his weight from foot to foot as I examined the marks.

"Sherlock, really. What's wrong?"

"Nothing."

I let it go but something was most definitely awry.

I wanted to tell him that John was fine. That it would be okay. That this whole thing was only a ruse to draw him from boredom. But I couldn't. John would be upset fro ruining his plan. A damn good one too. Well, it had seemed it at the time. Now, I wasn't so sure. Sherlock seemed too on edge for this. We should've picked someone else to be the victim. Even if it were me. Sherlock certainly wouldn't make a fuss about me if I were abducted. Seeing Sherlock buzzing about, asking questions instead of answering them was not how I wanted to see him.

He was trying to hide his concern. That much was obvious but I don't think he'd last very long without John.

That made me wonder; what the hell was so great about Watson that made Sherlock _feel? _

I'd probably never know.

VVVVVVVVVVVVV

Tell em how I did...im nervous about how Lestrade would sound...Molly is kind of easy though because all she thinks about is Sherlock HAHAHA

Thanks to everyone who has reviewed thus far.


	13. Chapter 13

To everyone out there reading, THANK YOU! And keep those reviews coming...they really inspire me to hurry up and post the next chapter. Haha.

I got a new writing software too, so there shouldn't be too many mistakes anymore. (three cheers for spell check!)

-MW

VVVVVVVVVVV

John POV

I sat in the back of the van as it hastily drove away from the flat. I felt a bit bad after seeing Sherlock's expression of worry. But he was only slightly worried and I was only slightly guilty. He'd thank me later.

"Good job, mate." I said to Sebastian Moran, my friend who had so willingly volunteered to be the kidnapper.

"Shut up."

My mouth noticeably fell open. Was this part of his acting? Because we were away from the crime scene now, so it shouldn't matter if we were 'in character,' right?

"Sebastian, we're far away from Baker Street now. Actually, where are we? I thought we were going to that little abandoned house we found."

"I told you to shut up, Watson." He yelled sternly.

"What the _hell _is going on?"

"Well I guess you'll figure it out sooner or later so I might as well cut to the chase. I'm warning you though, once I tell you, I'll have to kill you. I work for Moriarty, John. Jim always said I'd get my chance if I just waited for you, and as always, he was correct. You're little abduction plan is working quite nicely. No one thinks you're in real danger."

Oh _hell. _Honestly, my luck was probably the worst on the planet. What are the odds I would call the one friend of mine I call worked for Moriarty. Or maybe they all did? My mouth still hung open in shock and I closed it, grinding my teeth together. Words could not possibly express how angry I was at myself. Now no one was going to help me. Well, except the man who this was all for in eh first place.

"Sherlock does. He thinks I'm in trouble."

"That's easily taken care of."

Oh God, what have I done?

"What are you going to do to him?"

Moran just smiled at me, knowingly. I didn't even want to imagine what he was going to do to Sherlock. Or to me. I cursed myself for this. Well, at least Sherlock wouldn't be so bored. And if I was going to die for him and this game, then it had better be the best damn game he's ever played.

VVVVVVVVVVV

Sherlock POV

"Lestrade, I said your _best _men. Anderson is unacceptable. In short, he's an idiot."

"Sherlock, do you want to find John or not? I got the best men and women I could find at short notice and sent them over. As long as we find him, it doesn't matter who helps."

I sighed. I wanted to argue that we wouldn't find him at all without his best team put together but I didn't feel up to it. It sounded needy and sentimental, but I just wanted John back.

"Okay."

"Really? You're not going to row with me?"

I stared at him and he looked away, clearly getting the hint that I didn't want to talk. I knew my willingness to let Anderson work the case surprised him.

I couldn't tell him that I missed John. Or that I worried about him. Statements like that would only lead to more suspicions about John and mine's relationship. I knew for a fact that John hated when people thought us as a couple. It didn't bother _me_ though. There was nothing wrong with him. In fact it almost looked good for me if I were thought to be in a relationship with John. But it didn't look good for him. I was different. A freak. I clearly saw why John got embarrassed when people thought we were dating.

And if I told Lestrade that I wanted John back that would only fuel the argument that I was romantically involved with John. I couldn't have that. John would hate...even more than he already would from me not following him immediately after his abduction.

"Sherlock, are you _sure _you're okay?" Lestrade asked. I could see his team was packing up and getting ready to leave. They had probably missed everything worth finding. Idiots.

"Does it matter?"

"So that's a no then?"

"No."

"Yes it is."

"Shut up." I said as severely as I could without shouting.

I studied him. There was something off about him. Like he _knew _something. Like he was _guilty _of something. Before I could confront him, he asked me a question.

"Do you have any suspicions yet?"

"I think that the person who took John wanted to get at me. There's no other reason why anyone would take him. As don't think he's done anything so wrong that he deserves to get kidnapped and I _always _think right. I'm guessing it was one of Moriarty's men."

"But Moriarty is dead." He said, more like a question...as if he wasn't sure.

"Yes, of course. But he _did _promise John and me that the game wasn't over. I know that he has men who have commands for after he died. He's too smart to _not _leave a plan."

"Of course he is..." Lestrade muttered under his breath. "you bloody geniuses are all the same."

"Thank you."

He looked up, confused.

"You implied I was a genius."

He sighed and got into his patrol car. He turned on the ignition when he closed the door, but turned it off almost immediately.

"Do you have any other enemies? We can't only look for one. One that is dead, if I might add."

"Well, there's always my brother but I suppose he doesn't really count."

"You have a brother?"

"Obviously."

He scolded me for telling him it was obvious when I had never once mentioned him. He did have a point. I didn't like mentioning Mycroft and Mycroft didn't like when I mentioned him. So it was a silently mutual agreement that I just shouldn't talk about him.

I found it ironic that Mycroft's favourite thing was secrecy when his job was to spy on the world. He knew everything that happened which meant...

I hopped into Lestrade's patrol car, much to his surprise, and instructed him to drive as fast as he could. We were going to see Mycroft.

VVVVVVVVVVVVVV

Well, what do you think?

Next chapter...Sherlock gets in contact with Moran and some not-to-nice things are said, including a discussion of torture methods...

(it seems random, but I promise you'll like it.)

Hugs to all who review!


	14. Chapter 14

Why are there more people subscribed to eh story than there are reviews? HUH? Please review! I really need feedback on this because this is a really tricky segment to write. Also, if you haven't noticed, this is my first Sherlock BBC story.

So please...REVIEW!

-MW

VVVVVVVVVVVVVVV

John POV

"Come on, Moran. If you're going to kill me, you at least owe me a _full_ explanation of why."

He sighed and looked at me from across the room.

At some point I had been knocked unconscious and woke up here...though I didn't actually know where 'here' was. I assumed some kind of steel room. Probably underground since it had stairs that led to a small door in the ceiling. Yes, so defiantly underground. Well, at least it wasn't a clichéd abandoned warehouse.

The walls were steel which made the room cold as hell. It _was _winter after all, so I suppose being cold was to be expected. I should have worn a thicker jumper. Then again, I hadn't really expected to be a real victim.

Sherlock had better damn enjoy this case. I was going to _die _for this man. As many times as I said it, it didn't surprise me. Mycroft was right. I became loyal very quickly and of all people, I had chosen to trust Sherlock Holmes. The best and wisest man I ever knew.

Moran began his explanation slowly, looking me in the eye. Something in him told me that if I tired anything funny whilst he was talking, I'd be done for. I don't what he was worried about though. It wasn't as if I could actually do anything. He had tied me up, assumedly when I was unconscious.

"When I got back from the war, about a month after you did, Moriarty found me. He converted me to his ways. He said he had an old friend of mine who wasn't who I thought he was. He told me about you John. He told me about all your torturing techniques and your sick ways of treating the prisoners we held while we were supposed to be fighting for our country."

"What? I did no such thing. I'm proud to be English and you know it. How could Moriarty possible have made you believe any different?"

"He told me John, and I believe him. He told me of all the bad things you help Sherlock do. Sherlock is a terrible man, John. Like you and Sherlock, Moriarty-Jim-and I became fast friends and he showed me how to be like him."

"He's not good, Sebastian. We are! Sherlock and I. We are good...I can't believe you doubt me. Moriarty is playing you. He's giving you false information. He's a sick person."

Moran shook his head condescendingly. Whatever Moriarty had done, it had worked. The man was truly skilled in his twisted, perverse ways of corruption. This man had been close enough to be called my brother but now he was my worst enemy. Hmm, I suppose Sherlock was right in saying it was possible to have an arch enemy.

I guess mine is Coronel Sebastian Moran.

"John, John, John. Don't you see? It's Sherlock who is corrupting _you. _He's using you to lure in his enemies. You're bait, John. Nothing more to him. I thought you knew by now that Sherlock Holmes doesn't feel...doesn't love. Isn't it obvious to you?"

"He loves. He has a girlfriend for Christ's sake. Sebastian, it's not Sherlock you want to be angry at. It's Moriarty."

He shook his head stubbornly. He turned his back to me and I knew the conversation was over.

I had lived with this man for months before I was shot and deployed from Afghanistan. He was a brother to me. I thought he were a saint, given to us from whoever was sitting up there on the clouds. He was brave and honest and forthright.

I was completely responsible for this. If I hadn't thought of Moran so highly, I wouldn't have tried to give my life to save him in the war.

I remembered every vivid detail. Seeing Moran on the ground and panicking for the first time since I was kid. I remember being so worried that I felt sick to my stomach.

Then I saw that the bullet had only grazed him and I had felt like I was being lifted off the ground. Of course, all things must come down and I felt like I had plunged right to the dust when I saw that the man who had shot Moran was trying to finish the job.

"Get up. He's coming back." I shouted at him.

Too late. The shot fired and I threw Moran to the ground just in time to get him out of the way. The same couldn't be said about me, however. I felt a dull pain in my shoulder that instantly spiked once I to a horrifying pain when I saw that my shoulder had a bullet hole in it.

More horrifying to me at the time, however, was that if I hadn't had pushed Moran out of the way, the bullet would have gone right thought his chest, killing him. No, I have never regretted anything more.

I sincerely hoped Sherlock wouldn't find me so I wouldn't have to live with myself for the awful thing I did.

VVVVVVVVVVV

No time to edit...sincerely sorry for that.

Please review because I really need feedback on this. I'd love to make this segment as suspenseful and well..sad as possible. If it's just not working, tell me please and I'll change what I can to better suit your liking.

-Myelle


	15. Chapter 15

REALLY SHORT CHAPTER! Please review anyways...

VVVVVVVVVVVVVV

Sherlock POV

"Mycroft, I'm serious! Stop telling me to calm down. I'm not even upset."

"Fine." He said with a smug look across his face. I wanted to hit him because he didn't believe me. And because he was right. Mycroft was always right.

Geoff and I had gotten to Mycroft's within the hour after a quick stop at Scotland Yard. I had remembered just how many cameras were placed strategically around the city and Mycroft knew how to operate every one of them.

"There." Mycroft announced, pointing to a computer screen. Geoff and I looked as the video played. "That's you when John was abducted. I must say, Sherlock, it looks like you've grown attached to him-"

"He's a friend."

"You don't have friends."

"There's a first for everything. And it doesn't matter! Yes, I like John. Get over it. Help him!"

He smiled, evidently pleased with my admission of 'friendship'. Turning to his computer screen, he clicked on a few buttons, typed in a password too fast for me to read and a new screen popped up. I was now cut out of the view and only John and his kidnaper were visible. The man's face was perfectly able to be seen.

I tried not to look as the footage played over and over but I finally stole a glance at John's face. He looked scared but also mildly amused. I was confused at first but then my brain connected his amusement to his bravery. John was brave. Ready for danger at a moment's notice.

I suppose that any friend I had would have to be brave. My lifestyle wasn't exactly the 'normal' choice of most people. It was important that it was the choice for John. I'd never find another John Watson like mine and if my job killed this one, well...that's just the thing. For the first time in my life, I was absolutely lost in my own mind. No direction signs telling me where to run to next or what to avoid. No flashing arrows pointing me to the answers. No. Just nothing. Just me at the crossroads of thought.

VVVVVVVVVVVVVV

Sorry it's such a short chapter. It's really late right now cuz I just got home from an after party of this concert I played at. Nothing fancy, but I was out late and forgot to post a chapter earlier. Sorry guys...

-Myelle


	16. Chapter 16

Thanks you for all the kind reviews. Give me feedback and tell me how I'm doing. Pretty please? (with rainbows on top!)

-MW

VVVVVVVVVVVVVV

John POV

"Torture?" I asked, shakily. I thought I might cry. Never have I been more scared of anything than I was now. The idea that this man, my old friend from war-the man I saved- could possibly want to not only kill, but _torture_ me was too much.

"It's necessary. I want Sherlock to come out and play and to do that I need to make him feel something. He's not going to care if I simply kill you. I need to do much worse than that."

I wanted to scream in my own horror. No one would hear. I assumed there was nothing above us. No one to cry to for help.

What was I going to do now? Sit here and wait? Wait for what? Wait for Sherlock to come and save me? That's not going to happen. Now that Moriarty was involved-dead or otherwise- Sherlock would have a much harder time finding me.

The last time I saw Sherlock, he was running towards the van, but not after it. Why didn't he run after it like we did the taxi?

Then it hit me. Sherlock wasn't going to have a hard time finding me. He wasn't going to find me at all. He wasn't coming. He knew this was fake.

VVVVVVVVVVVV

Sherlock POV

Lestrade knew something and I had to know it. Something in me told me I didn't want to know. It must be something bad if he was keeping it held back. What could possibly cause him to want to prevent me from finding John?

My brain automatically calculated the most obvious answer- John was dead and Lestrade didn't want to tell me. But I had to know no matter what the cause was.

"Geoff I know that you know something. You have to tell me."

"I don't know anything more than you do."

"He's lying." Mycroft said.

"I could tell that for myself, thank you." I snapped back.

Lestrade had a look of guilt and party annoyance wash over his face. I told Mycroft to run the man's face through their data base and look for a match with a name. He smiled at me and I knew he had already found it.

"Why didn't you tell me you found it already?"

"Why didn't you ask?"

I sighed. For being the older brother, sometimes Mycroft was more childish than me. Mycroft explained that the man's name was Coronel Sebastian Moran and that he fought with John in the war.

"Wouldn't Moran like John? What could he have done so wrong that he'd be abducted for?"

"Well, John probably didn't do anything. You, uh..." Mycroft was at a loss for words. That was a first. How come the only time I don't want Mycroft to shut up, he does? "Um, Sherlock, you won't like this." He continued, sounding uneasy.

"Just say it."

"We've been trying to track down Moran for months. After he got back from Afghanistan, he took to working for Jim Moriarty. I'm sorry Sherlock."

What was that? Condolences? I didn't want those. That would mean John was dead but if John knew this man maybe there was hope that he could talk Moran out of killing him. I turned away from my brother and Lestrade.

"Geoff, you have to tell me what you know." I began, looking out a nearby window. "You as well as anyone know how hard it is to find someone who I get along with. And John and I don't just get along. We're friends. I need him back so just tell me what you know."

I turned around and looked him in the eye. He looked to the ground and spoke quietly.

"I suppose it doesn't matter now since John is in actual danger now."

"What does that mean?"

"Sherlock, I'm going to start by saying that I'm very sorry and I had no idea who Moran really was. John said you were getting annoying and he said he employed Moran to-"

I cut him off with a strangled cry of surprise.

"So John got Moran to kill him? I never thought I was _that _bad to live with. Lestrade get in touch with him. Tell him I'm sorry."

"Sherlock, God no. That's not what I was getting at. Since when do you jump to conclusions?"

I didn't answer and began pacing, motioning for him to simply continue.

"John had come to me and said you getting a bit annoying and he wanted to help you. He designed a case for you involving one of his army friends who had offered to do the kidnapping. I swear to you that was all we were doing. John was trying to help you, not kill himself."

"He was...John was trying to _help?_"

Words came trickling out of my mouth in a whisper. I only realized that my phone was ringing when Lestrade told me to answer it. I stared at it before answering, not knowing what to think. I forgot how to speak and extreme feeling of guilt crammed itself everywhere in my body. John's number was displayed on the screen. The lights on the phone seemed blindingly bright. Everything else was blurred. I don't know what was happening to me. But I answered the phone.

"John?"

"No. It's Sebastian. By now I thought you would have figured out what was going on."

I ran out of the room to speak to him in private.

"Of course I know."

"I bet you got your brother's help, didn't you? Admit it; you're too weak to find even your best friend."

"How do you know I have a brother?"

"I know more about you than your own parents do, Sherlock."

"Where is John? I need to talk to him."

"He can't talk."

Damn this man. Why did everything I do get everything I love or care about taken away from me? From what I knew I was innocent but still I lose everyone. Just...why? I felt crushed. I was literally crushed by this man's words. Nothing could compare to the feeling of emptiness in me and I was so certain that John was dead that I wanted to give up. Why was he doing this? I just wanted to live in peace. There are people who have hundreds of friends. Why can't I have even just one? What was so wrong with me that I didn't deserve just one person who cared about me?

I wanted to cry. I wouldn't do it though. After all these years of holding back feelings, they had to be closely monitored. Crying was out of my control and therefore unacceptable.

"So he's dead then."

"No, no. He's just unconscious at the moment. I have to say, he's an easy knock out."

"I'll find you, Moran, and when I do, you'd best take your last look at the sun because you'll never see it again. I'll tear you eyes out, rip off your fingernails, and cut out your tongue. I no longer care about consequences."

"I can assure you that John is very much alive. Though he's a bit boring. You, however, just gave me a few ideas of what to do with him. It'll be ton of fun now. Too bad you're not here to join in."

He hung up. That was it. I turned to the wall and smashed my phone to pieces against it. When I finished, I rested my head against the wall and felt a reassuring hand on my shoulder.

Lestrade ushered me into back into the room where Mycroft waited. I shook off Lestrade's hand and sat beside Mycroft.

I just needed my brother-whether I liked it or not. For the record though, I didn't like it very much.

VVVVVVVVVVVV

Well, I think I'll cut it off there for now. Next chapter might be really descriptive.

Please review. If you have any suggestions or you want to see anything in the story, let me know. I've got one that I'm already writing into segment four.

Just so you know, segment three is going to be Christmas. So if you have any ideas for that topic, let me know. I'm more than happy to hear them.

-MW


	17. Chapter 17

This chapter might get a little graphic. Please tell me how I did with this one. It's not every day I get to write about torture and this might not be the _best _chapter ever, but I want it to be good. So please tell me how I did and as always, any suggestions can be given to me in a review or private message.

Thanks to all who have ready and reviewed thus far.

-MW

VVVVVVVVVVVVVV

John POV

"You're boyfriend knows that this is simply a game, John. He sounded upset on the phone. So he gave me some lovely ideas of what to do with you."

I ignored him, but the words still hurt. If Sherlock was helping my soon-to-be-torturer, he was probably _really _ticked. Even if I hadn't ignored him, I don't think the words would have sunk in much anyways. I had woken up minutes ago with an aching head (which was soon to be the least of my problems) and my first guess what that I had been unconscious rather than asleep.

I self-diagnosed myself. I had one eye swollen shut and one broken finger. Not too bad. I'd been through worse. My head, however, had a bump at the back and when I brought my hand down from it, there was wet blood slipping though my fingers.

That wasn't good. If I could still see and think straight, however, it would be just fine in a few days.

I watched Moran, languorously, as he took out a pair of long pliers from a tool bag.

I knew what those were for. I would have been scared if it hadn't been Sherlock's suggestion. But because it was, I knew I deserved this.

VVVVVVVVVVVV

Sherlock POV

"Sherlock, look, this is simple. We just trace the phone."

"Mycroft, I think that if this man worked for Moriarty, he would know how to block a signal."

"You underestimate me. Moran made a very big mistake calling from John's phone because I changed the phone to make it traceable from anywhere he goes on the planet. Well, I suppose even some places off of the planet but I highly doubt he'll be going anywhere like that anytime soon. Anyway, John's phone is wirelessly connected to the computer over in the corner and with the right passwords, we can get his exact latitude and longitude in about five seconds."

"And how did you get john's phone to connect it to the computer?"

" I had one of my more skilled agents break into your flat a few months ago and change the settings on his phone."

"And mine too, I'm assuming."

"Of course."

I sighed, motioning for him to go to the right computer screen. I suppose I wasn't surprised with all this. I knew I was always under camera surveillance save for inside the actual flat but I hadn't known our phones were converted to a GPS system. He'd have to do that all over again for my phone seeing as it was now in pieces on the hallway floor.

At least there was now hope of finding John alive. If Mycroft could trace the number quick enough, we might have John back by tonight.

Within ten minutes, we were on our way towards John. Or so I thought.

What I found there immediately made my stomach drop and my legs shake. In the center of a small room within an abandoned house was a letter that was held down by John's phone. There was no sign of Moran anywhere.

As I read the letter, each word stung me as a needle point would. It was simple but haunting.

_Dear Sherlock,_

_ I figured you would trace the call. This just goes to show you that you can't win. Even so, I wish you luck. Games aren't fun without a worthy opponent. Right?_

A Post script read "if you want to see John, look on the phone."

I hesitated but picked up the phone and looked. On the screen, in those blinding lights, was a picture of my best (only) friend. His eyes were closed, his face bloodied, his arms cut and his fingers bruised.

I passed the letter to Lestrade who was now behind me. He read the letter, but never asked for the phone. I guess he didn't want to see. I didn't blame him. Moran would die for this...if I could find him.

I dropped the phone as a sudden realization occurred to me.

I was at a dead end.

VVVVVVVVVVVV

John POV

I've never had a moment before where I begged for my life. I felt pathetic. Weak. It may have been cliché to say that time slows down when you're scared or hurt, but it does. Time slows to such an excruciatingly crawling pace when all you are waiting for is death.

"Don't blame me, blame Sherlock."

"He's not responsible. He had nothing to do with this!"

"Don't stand up for him, John. You mean nothing to him and no matter what you say now, he won't forgive you. He'll never hear you say your last words whether they are for him or not."

"Stop, please! What do you want from me?"

"I want you and Sherlock to pay for what you've done."

I tried so hard not to cry for me or for Sherlock, but I failed. Tears finally came and they felt good.

VVVVVVVVVVVV

Sherlock POV

I just wanted him back. I failed him. There was nothing left to do.

VVVVVVVVVVV

There was nothing left for me. Only death. Sherlock wouldn't come now.

VVVVVVVVVVV

John is a dead man. There's no point in trying now.

VVVVVVVVVV

Sherlock was going to die. It was all my fault.

VVVVVVVVVV

This was all my fault.

VVVVVVVVVVVV

John POV

My nails were pulled, one by one and after the first three I began to black out from the pain. I didn't let Moran know this. I knew that if he knew I wasn't feeling the pain, he'd stop and wait until I regained my thoughts and then he'd start again.

Everything was blurry but the blood was my focal point. There was too much not to notice it. And I couldn't help but also note how beautiful scarlet colour was against my skin. I must be mad. I probably was.

VVVVVVVVVVVVVV

PLEASE tell me how I did with this. Especially the part where I went from John to Sherlock's thoughts back and forth. Did it work? How did you like Sherlock's emotions in this? Yes, I am aware he is getting a bit out of character, but can you really expect him to be perfectly composed as his best friend is getting tortured?


	18. Chapter 18

Hey guys...I this segment is going to be ending soon...i have to shorten it to make room for the CHRISTMAS SEGMENT! (segment 3)

Tell me if you wanna see anything for Christmas...I'm still deciding what to get them for Christmas. (*cough* each other...kidding. not yet)

VVVVVVVVVVVVV

Sherlock POV

"Sherlock, playing violin for twelve straight hours isn't good for you. It's been four days since John was taken and you've barely done anything."

"I'm thinking."

Though I know Mycroft wouldn't believe me, I wasn't lying. The only thing I could do was think of how I could find John. Violin helped me think best and if twelve hours of it was what it took to find him, then so be it. I'd play forever if necessary. Though I rather still hoped it wouldn't come to that.

"You need sleep and food to think properly."

"You need less of both. You're gaining weight."

He ground his teeth together audibly. I can't help but think it must hurt but it's always been a habit of his. Whenever I'd make him angry, which happens with increasing frequency, he grinds his teeth.

"Look, forget about John-"

"What?" I interjected immediately. Mycroft held out a hand, palm towards me to stop me from talking.

"Sherlock, I mean that you should forget _your _involvement in the case. Worrying about him isn't helping anyone find him any faster. In fact, you're brain is so clouded with images of what Moran is doing to him that you aren't thinking straight. Therefore, forget the case because I have my own men working on it. They'll find him. You need to sleep before you can start working on this again."

"No."

"We'll find him. You won't."

I didn't doubt they'd find him. I didn't doubt that I wouldn't. But whoever found him, I just hoped they found him alive. Mycroft noted my frown and looked at me with concern. I hated him right now, despite all he was doing to save John.

"Now, Sherlock, its necessary you sleep now. I can't go get John if you're buzzing round."

"You know where he is?"

"Of course I do."

"Then tell me!"

"No, you'll over dramatize everything and John will go into shock. Now sleep."

Mycroft pulled out a syringe and stabbed my left arm. He muttered an apology that I barely heard because the room had spun. I started to fall and he caught me, lowering me to the couch. I felt paralysed. I could no longer move my arms or legs.

I stared at him from the couch as he seemingly swirled around me, though I knew he was simply standing in one spot. I felt betrayed and I glared at him with hate burning inside of me. I had no idea how long I'd be unconscious for but I knew that the second I woke up, I was going to beat up Mycroft until he was unrecognizable.

Bastard.

"I'm sorry Sherlock." I heard him mutter. "This is for your own good. When you wake up, we'll have John."

_Liar. _Was my last thought.

VVVVVVVVVVVV

John POV

"I have a surprise for you, John."

"I don't want it. Please just kill me. Isn't that your goal?"

"That's no fun."

He makes me sick.

"You're boyfriend didn't even help me with this one. I remembered in history class when my teacher used to tell us of the medieval times. The best lesson was the use of the torture methods. My favourite method was the one where they boil the sinners in water. I figured I'd step it up a bit and use oil. Of course, I don't have a pot big enough so pouring it will have to suffice-"

Then there was gunshot. It came so suddenly and so out of place that I thought for a second I was hallucinating. I sat up slightly and was helped by two large hands. My heart sped up and I thought Sherlock was here and I couldn't help but be a bit disappointed when Mycroft started to talk.

"Sherlock will be happy to see _you._ I'm glad you're at least alive. I'll take you to a hospital and-"

"Stop. Is Sherlock alright?"

"Why would he be anything else?" he asked as I tried to stand on my feet. Obviously, I couldn't walk on my own and he put my arm over his shoulders and supported me.

"Just answer me. As you can see, I'm really not in the mood for your questions...um, but thank you, you know for-"

"Don't thank me. Sherlock is just fine. Unconscious at the moment, but he'll be fine."

I sighed, not asking questions. If Mycroft said he'd be fine, I'm sure he would be.

We went to the hospital and I was bandaged and cleaned up. Mycroft ordered for my immediate release, and of course it was allowed. Though I really should have spent the night, it wasn't necessary. The entire time, I couldn't help realizing that it would probably be better if I had died anyways. The process of my nails growing back in would be long and painful.

Mycroft didn't say a single word until we were outside the doors to 221b Baker Street.

"Ready?" he asked.

"Of course." I said eagerly, waiting for him to open the door. It was nearly impossible for me with all the bandages.

"Just be aware that Sherlock feels guilty. He's going to baby you. This isn't the first time he's lost something he cares about. And don't look so surprised. Of course Sherlock cares about you. He wouldn't be trying so hard to be a normal human if he didn't care about what you think."

"Well then..."

"Just go in."

I listened with no hesitation.

VVVVVVVVVVVV

I was going to write Sherlock's reaction, but decided it's more fun to keep you guessing in suspense. Am I mean?

LOL

Please review. Next chapter might be the last for segment two.


	19. Chapter 19

To all my readers and reviews...THANK YOU! This is the LAST chapter of segment two...next time I update, it will be segment 3! CHRISTMAS! WOO HOO! When Mycroft said to John "you can imagine the Christmas dinners..." I laughed SO hard. So my next instalment won't be a Christmas dinner but it'll be about Sherlock's opposition to the holiday. It'll be great, I promise. (it's nice to have a break from all this drama)

VVVVVVVVVVVVVVV

Sherlock POV

I woke slowly. I heard Mycroft telling someone I was awake but the black swirling mist circling my head seemed to block out the sounds. Everything was blurry but getting clearer by the moment.

"Give him a minute." Mycroft instructed to the other person. Probably that assistant of his... I'm pretty sure her real name is Holly.

I remembered exactly how I had 'fallen asleep' in the first place. Stupid Mycroft. How he be so daft as to think I wasn't trying to find John. I just needed time. And space. Apparently I wasn't going to get either since he's still here.

But then I heard a familiar voice mutter the words 'I can't believe you've drugged him' with partial amusement. My heart started pounding faster and I thought for a second that it might be a side effect of the drugs but it must have been my excitement. I sat up as fast as I could. Too fast apparently, as I fell right back down.

"John, he must have heard you. Keep your voice down or you'll excite him too much."

"Sorry." John mumbled softly.

I opened my eyes fully and saw John immediately. He was looking over me with a worried expression. I thought for a second I was in heaven but Mycroft wouldn't be in my heaven if there was one. So I might have been in hell but _John_ wouldn't be here. He was too good. So I was alive and John was too.

I quickly examined him, noticing the white bandages that crimson patches had already soaked through. Moran kept on his promises then. John's fingernails _were _pulled. I don't think I've ever felt worse about myself in my entire life.

At least his eyes and tongue were still there.

I tried again to sit up, this time successful and I pushed my luck and stood with Mycroft's help.

"Mycroft, what the hell did you do to him?"

"I helped him."

Bastard. He did not.

"John." I said weakly, trying to stable my tone of voice. Hopefully they thought it was from my hazy state that my voice had cracked a little. Truth is, I thought for a second I might cry with all the happiness inside me. I wanted to jump and cheer but that was unacceptable. I was _Sherlock Holmes. _Sherlock Holmes doesn't jump and cheer...though he's in danger of starting.

I stared at John in amazement, just _so_ glad he was home.

This was overwhelming. Unbelievable!

"Sherlock, calm down. You'll kill yourself if you don't." Mycroft said. I knew he was right, but of course I didn't listen. There was too much excitement dwelling in me to calm myself.

"I'm fine."

I turned to John. He stepped forward but tired to hide his hands from me. He should know better by now. I've already seen them.

"John, I'm so, so sorry."Is that how people usually do it? Apologize? I'm afraid I'm not very good at it. John could clearly see that.

"You have nothing to apologize for, Sherlock. Just sit down."

"No, I'm fine."

"Sit." He said forcefully. I admit I was startled by his firmness in his tone but I complied and sat down on the sofa. John sat beside me and Mycroft sat in the adjacent chair.

We were seated only a few minutes before Mycroft got up and started to excuse himself from the flat. Before he went, however, I felt the need to thank him. John probably wouldn't be alive if he hadn't been working on the case with me.

"Wait." I said quickly.

He came over to me and I stood, despite both of the other men's protests. I was fine now anyway. I was used to sedatives by now.

I gripped my brother warmly by the hand.

"Thank you." I said as meaningfully as I could manage. Apparently it was enough.

Mycroft cleared his throat, evidently feeling awkward by our handshake.

"Anytime, Sherlock. Be careful from now on though. And John, I'm glad to see you're alright. I can't imagine what kind of destruction Sherlock would begin if you hadn't been okay."

John visibly reddened in the cheeks, thanked Mycroft, and waved as Mycroft left the flat.

Mrs. Hudson came in almost immediately after and ran to John. I would have laughed at the sight if I hadn't wanted to do the same thing.

Mrs. Hudson took john into her arms and he hugged her back, despite the uncomfortable look on his face.

"You had us worried sick, you. If you ever leave like that again I'll have to kill you. You boys are important to me, and not just for paying the rent."

"Thank you Mrs. Hudson, but I think John needs his rest." I said, wanting to take her place but knowing I couldn't. If I were to hug John, I think he might go into shock. I didn't want that.

"You need it too, Sherlock. Oh and I know you boys are going to want to..._you know _...later on. Just keep it down. I've got to get _my _sleep too and that's not going to happen if you two are going at it."

My mouth dropped open and John laughed so hard I thought he might stop breathing. We both went red in the face at her comment and I quickly ushered her out, thanking her for her concern for John.

When she was gone, I began to join John in his laughter and it was like old times again.

The both of us didn't have any clue why we were laughing when we had finished minutes later but it seemed that all the relief we both felt poured out through it and we were slowly calming down.

"I'm, uh..." I cleared my throat, "I'm very glad to have you back."

"Same here."

To my surprise and, I admit, joy, John leaned forward and hugged me as someone would a brother...well, with the exception of Mycroft and I.

And things were perfect once again.

VVVVVVVVVVV

THIS CONCLUDES SEGMENT 2. Segment three will begin later today or tomorrow...

PLEASE TELL EM HOW YOU LIKED THIS SEGMENT! And yes, I am aware the characters are getting OOC. They are suppose to.


	20. Chapter 20

SEGMENT 3 BEGINS NOW!

Thank to everyone who has so kindly reviewed over the last two segments. Hopefully we can get more of them now that the third segment had begun. This next instalment is my Christmas gift to all of you. THANK YOU for being such wonderful readers!

-Myelle White

**P.S.-to my readers who ****don't**** celebrate Christmas**, I'm very sorry. It's just that the majority of people do... but I am truly very sorry if you don't celebrate the holiday. Regardless, this segment has more fun things than just Christmas in it so you'll still enjoy it...I think. I hope so anyways. Tell me if you'd like to see anything in this segment that you want me to write. Once again, sorry to everyone who does not celebrate this holiday.

VVVVVVVVVVVVVVVV

John POV

"John, can't we please talk about this?"

"Don't say that. It sounds like we're a couple."

"But we are."

"No, Sherlock, we aren't. You're dating Molly."

"Right." Sherlock said as if he had just remembered that fact.

I wondered for the millionth time since they started dating why she was still with him. Or him with her, for that matter. Sherlock always forgot she was his girlfriend and Molly was so obsessed with him that she hardly noticed. They were an odd couple, but at least they were happy together. I suppose that's all that matters.

Sherlock glared at me, obviously not finished with our argument.

"John, I will NOT, under any conditions celebrate Christmas this year."

Sherlock sulked on the sofa, staring at me in resentment. Sometimes he was such a child. But then again, children _loved _the holiday season. What child hates Christmas? I can see that with him, getting him to celebrate with me would be a lot harder than convincing a child to do something. I'd need an ultimatum...

"Sherlock, we are setting up a tree and that's final. I won't back down on this. If I have to move out for Christmas, so be it, but if that happens I might not be coming back." I said as vehemently as I could manage.

"I'm sorry, I'm sorry...okay. We can celebrate your stupid holiday. Just don't move out. It's boring here alone."

I laughed at his eagerness to keep me here, but I knew exactly what he was talking about. The flat was painfully boring when there was no one else around.

It's been three weeks since I returned to Baker Street. The process of my nails growing back in was insufferably painful. I still felt hot tears threatening to spill from my eyes when I tried simple tasks such as opening doors or buttoning up coats.

Sherlock, of course had noticed my struggle and told the practice that I wouldn't be in for a while. He surprised me with his careful words and actions around me, always watching to see if he had offended me in some way when he was talking or checking to see if he had hurt me in some way if he bumped into me.

I had gone back to the practice only a week after coming home and when I got home, Sherlock immediately recognized my stress.

_"John." He said as I hung up my coat, wincing as my delicate finger, still wrapped in bandages, brushed the metal hook. I sat down on the chair across from him before I spoke. _

_ "What?" I asked him, wondering what he could possibly want. Couldn't he see I was busy?_

_ "I've been thinking about you."_

_ "Okay, just stop there."_

_ "But I have more to say."_

_ "I don't want to hear it."_

_ He glared at me with his signature blank expression. The look that made everyone else in the room self-conscious of their own intelligence. I sighed and motioned for him to continue whatever strange revelation he was about to tell me. He smiled and did just that. _

_ "Well, I was thinking that you were unhappy with your job. You're like me, John. You can't live with a simple 9-5 job that most people are fine with. You enjoy helping people but you'd rather not have to go to the practice every day. So, to solve your problem, and mine, because this is partly for me too."_

_ "Of course it is..." I said. He shot me a look and I apologized for interrupting. Smiling knowingly, he continued._

_ "I get paid quite enough for the both of us to share and you deserve your cut anyways. I like to give credit where credit is due. You've been such a big help to me in my cases before so I thought that you might like to quit your job and work with me instead...like a business partner."_

_ I was speechless. Staring at the man, I got up from the chair and started walking into the kitchen. He called after me and when I didn't respond he got up and followed me._

_ "Look, John, you don't have to. I just thought that we both had so much fun when we work the cases and we make a substantial amount of money from the higher class clients. If we split it, it's enough for rent and all the other bills with still some left over. But I understand if you don't want to join me. It's not exactly the life for many people-"_

_ I held up my hand to stop him from talking. I plugged in the kettle and stayed silent the entire time, thinking about what he just proposed. _

_ Sherlock Holmes wanted to work with me. He was willing to share the job he had created for himself...I couldn't dare refuse an offer like this. But what about the practice? I was supposed to be a doctor. Not a consulting detective. I wasn't smart like Sherlock so I didn't know what he was talking about when he said I had helping him. _

_ I had to answer. The looks he gave me were making me feel guilty for making him wait for my response. _

_ "I'd be honoured."_

_ He smiled a wide smile and shook my hand, gently of course. He was still rather wary about my injuries. _

_ "Well then, I'd best go and call Sarah."_

_ He laughed and bounced back into the sitting room full of the energy I only saw in him when a murder arose. I couldn't help but be a bit proud that I had made him happy like that. _

That day paralleled my own happiness with Sherlock's. We hadn't had a case yet, but Sherlock would often leave the flat for extended periods of time, looking around London for anything that looked suspicious. So I knew just what he meant when he said the flat was boring alone.

Though it might be awkward when Sherlock will introduce me as his "partner." I'd have to make sure to make him say "business" in front of that.

We had grown closer after I returned home but not _that _close.

"So you'll go with me to pick out a tree? Because that's what celebrating Christmas entails."

"Why so soon?"

"Sherlock, Christmas is in a week. People usually have their trees up at the start of the month."

"Can you do it yourself?'

"I can't carry a tree home by myself, especially not with my hands so-"

"Shh..." he began loudly to shut me up, "I don't want to hear that. Let's just go. I pass a small tree lot everyday around the corner. But wear your bandages and the thicker mitts to protect your fingers."

"Thanks mum."

He scoffed at me and ran to grab his jacket on first before helping me into mine. I don't think, after knowing him to be so self-centered at first, that I would ever get used to him being so concerned for my health.

Sherlock and I had seemingly switched places. He would do random tasks for me and I would look after me as I had done for him. And I had become more sporadic in my sleeping schedule and meal schedule.

Now we were completely different people, yet still ourselves. I couldn't help but wonder if there would ever be balance between us. My instincts told me...probably not.

"Let's go, its cold outside." Sherlock instructed as he held open the door and we stepped into the cold.

VVVVVVVVVVVV

Okay, well how was the start of my third segment? Tell em what you think.

As always, I'm aware they are getting out of character. I want them that way.

-MW


	21. Chapter 21

Hello everyone...I can't wait to show you what the bys got each other for Christmas! I just decided what John was going to get Sherlock today...I've known what Sherlock is getting John for months.

-Myelle

VVVVVVVVVVVV

John POV

Surprisingly, Sherlock seemed very excited to find a tree upon reaching the tree lot. It was as if years of bottled up childhood emotions were suddenly unleashed. I didn't regret making him celebrate. How could I when he was so happy? I think that this might be joyous Christmas after all.

Now, we sat in our apartment, surveying the brightly decorated tree from the sofa. With tea in our hands, and the lights contrasting with the dark room, there was an overwhelming feeling of bliss in me and I could tell Sherlock was feeling the same thing.

VVVVVVVVVV

Sherlock POV

I wasn't going to tell John the reason for my aversion to Christmas. That stays with me.

This was the first Christmas tree I had decorated in over twenty four years. After Daddy died, Mycroft, mummy and I didn't feel like celebrating anymore. Not without him...and with his death so close to the holiday itself.

Maybe this year I'll even play my violin at Christmas. I usually lock it away for fear of being tempted into learning a Christmas carol. But maybe this year I'd intentionally learn one. For John.

I wonder what his favourite is...

Maybe this Christmas could be good. You were supposed to celebrate with people you enjoyed being around. I enjoyed being around John. He and Mrs. Hudson, and Molly were my only friends. There was Lestrade, but could _anyone _really consider him a friend? Honestly, the man only people around if they were of use to him.

Maybe all those friends would have dinner with John and I in our flat like a family would and maybe we'd laugh together like a family would...and celebrate.

I can't help but notice that these are all _maybe's _and not _for-sure's. _Oh well. I'm sure John would work out what we were doing for Christmas. It was his idea after all.

My phone rang, interrupting the peaceful silence that John and I were enjoying together.

I groaned and got up, realizing who it was.

"Hello, Mycroft." I answered, walking into my room for some privacy. I'm sure John didn't want to hear our conversation anyway.

"Sherlock, I heard news. You're celebrating Christmas, hmm?"

"Yes, and it's none of your business."

"But you don't know how to celebrate Christmas. I bet you it didn't even occur to you to get John a gift, did it?"

"No, but-"

He laughed and I felt the anger flush to my face. What did he know? Mycroft hadn't celebrated either in the last...almost 25 years. Who was he to tell me I didn't know how?

"I'm only telling you because John is going to get you something, whether he's decided on it or not...we both know he won't be able to forget a gift. You, however, would, and most probably will. Therefore, I can get someone to get something for you to give since you don't shop. He's probably not expecting anything-since you usually never give him anything anyway. "

"Shut up, Mycroft. If I'm celebrating Christmas, I'm doing it the right way. I don't want you messing this up for me. I hate shopping but if it's necessary, I'll do it. I'll prove to you _and _John that I can do this."

"Just keep in mind that you don't have to shop, Sherlock. People make gifts, too. I'm sure you can think of something in that tidy little brain of yours."

"Goodbye, Mycroft." I aid forcefully, hanging up the phone.

When I came back into the sitting room, John waited for me with a cup of tea in his hand. I sipped at it eagerly, grumbling about my stupid brother.

"Come on, don't be such a Scrooge." John said.

"Scrooge? John, do you really think I'm the heartless? I try not to be-"

"No, no, Sherlock. It's just an expression."

"Oh."

We sat quietly, starting at the tree. Surprisingly, I didn't let my mind wander. I just sat there enjoying the illumination and the colours. The glass ornaments seemed to glisten against the glow of the lights. The whole tree smelled of pine and Christmassy scents that I remember from my childhood. Everything in the room looked better now that the soft blush from the tree lights danced on every surface. It was beautiful. Breathtakingly so.

But then, as it would have to be, my mind wandered anyway.

"So if I'm scrooge, who are you?"

"Well I can be Jacob Marley."

"No."

"Why not?" He asked, staring at me like he hadn't known he could have a wrong answer.

"Because you're too nice, John. Jacob Marley was a greedy old bugger. You're not like that at all."

"Okay then, Sherlock, who am I?"

"Tiny Tim. Oh, don't give me that look, John. I'm honestly surprised that you hadn't mentioned him in the first place. You're short, and so is he. It's in his name. You're inspirational, but don't ever tell anyone I said that or they'll think I've gone soft, and you almost died by my hand. Tim is dead when the third ghost brings Scrooge to the graveyard. Oh, and don't forget the limp."

John scoffed at this.

"Oh." He mumbled, taking a very slow sip of his tea. "Well now that I think of it...I suppose I am similar to him. But I'm not short."

"Yes you are."

"No I'm not."

"Yes you-"

"Shut up."

We laughed at out silly banter and I realized that I liked making John laugh. Perhaps I should get John something funny for Christmas...and then it hit me.

I knew exactly the perfect gift for John.

VVVVVVVVVVVV

Happy early Christmas...and I hope I can learn to update more quickly because I have so much more of this segment before I get to the 25th which is when you guys get your Christmas gift (which is actually the same gift that Sherlock gives to john...i wrote it especially for all of you)


	22. Chapter 22

If you want to see what Sherlock gets John, go to my story "Twas Christmas At Baker Street" and please review...

-Myelle

VVVVVVVVVVV

John POV

Sherlock suddenly had the strangest look on his face. He took his tea, computer and notepad into his room, shut the door and didn't come out.

I was scared to know what he was doing in there. Three hours passed before I knew it and in that time I was still unsuccessful in try8ing to think up a gift good enough for a man who got bored with everything. It would be a miracle to find something he loved-or even just liked. Hell, it was a miracle in itself that he wasn't bored with _me_ already.

I wonder what other people got him, if anything. Surely Molly would have but I don't think Lestrade or Mrs. Hudson would have bothered.

I checked to make sure Sherlock wasn't quietly prowling around the kitchen. When I found the coast was clear, I picked up my phone and found Molly's number in the directory. It hurt to press the tiny buttons with my fingers but I suppose it was for a good cause.

"Hello?" she answered.

"Hey Molly, its John. Listen I can't talk now but will you meet me for breakfast in the morning? It's nothing important, on need to worry but I need to talk to you when Sherlock isn't around."

"Sure. The cafe across the street from Bart's?"

"Sounds perfect. I'll meet you there at nine."

"Great. See you then."

I hung up the phone, staring at Sherlock's bedroom door. If it was the last thing I do, I will find a gift that he likes.

With that out of the way, ready to be determined tomorrow morning, I could finally fully sit and appreciate all the twinkling lights of the tree. It contrasted with the dark room and made it shine. The excitement from holidays and putting up the tree really tired me out.

To me there was no sight as beautiful as a Christmas tree but it would still be here for me to enjoy tomorrow, I hope, and I really should get some sleep.

"Sherlock, I'm going to bed. Please, please, _please, _don't burn down the tree. If you do, I'll never forgive you."

"No promises. Goodnight, John."

I sighed. That's as good as I was going to get from him. Shaking my head in slight amusement, I went to bed.

VVVVVVVVVV

John POV

The next morning, I greeted Molly at our favourite cafe. We ordered our coffee quickly, eager to warm up.

"So I need ideas for what to get Sherlock for Christmas. What did you get him?"

"Well it took a lot of paperwork and a few weeks of processing but I got him a personal access pass to his favourite lab at Bart's. I heard him complaining one day that all the signing in that he had to do severely lessened his time he was able to spend inside the actual lab. Do you think he will like it? I just wanted to give him more time in the labs and less in the lobby."

"Oh my God. Molly, that's an amazing gift! Of course he'll like it. He'll love it! I wish I could think of something like that..."

"Oh good. It took _forever_ with all the forms to sign and what not."

"He's going to be speechless."

"Now we just have to find something for you to give him."

She smiled and asked what I had in mind but to be honest, I had no idea. I've been thinking about it forever but hadn't actually settled on any idea. Well, actually no ideas had even come to mind. What do you get a man like Sherlock?

VVVVVVVVVVVVVV

Sherlock POV

Confound it. I couldn't think of any more good rhymes. I had decided on making John a poem for Christmas. But I wasn't familiar with all the types of metre, so I borrowed one.

The only Christmas poem I could remember was '_twas the night before Christmas. _I hope that would suffice. But all those rhymes...they were getting to be too much. I was getting a headache.

I took a step back from my computer which sat on the bed. There were papers all over my floor covered in failed verses of my miserable attempt at a Christmas poem. They covered everything and I stepped over them as I paced up and down the room.

Then I heard it. The horrifying crunch of wood under my foot was like a scream in my ears. I knew exactly what had been under those papers. My violin.

VVVVVVVVVVVVVV

John POV

My breakfast with Molly was unsuccessful. Both of us could think of no ideas for a gift that Sherlock wouldn't throw away or experiment on. I had considered a dog to keep him company or just for another friend but we quickly threw away that idea for the sake of the animal.

As I entered our shared flat, I heard Sherlock's panicked cries from the bedroom. I ran to the door, which was now open to find him facing away from me, bent over on the ground holding something.

"No, no, no, no..." he repeated over and over to himself.

I rushed to his side and saw over his shoulder that he was holding his cracked and torn violin. I couldn't imagine what had happened to it in the condition it was in. It looked as if Sherlock was in physical pain by the expression on his face.

I put a comforting hand on his shoulder to attempt to calm him down.

"John...I stepped...and heard a crack...and..."

"It's okay. You can tell me later." I said, kneeling beside him and helping him up to his feet. He got up slowly and stared at the violin in his arms which he cradled as if it were a child. Clearly this instrument meant more to him than I thought it did.

The expression he wore was absolutely heartbreaking. Never had I seen him so disturbed. Here was a man who was just as broken as his wrecked violin. It was as if his dearest friend had died-well, more so because I had seen the look he wore when he thought I had died.

"What are you going to do with it?" I asked as he hugged it closer to his chest.

"I have no use for it now. I have to throw it out."

"Sherlock, you don't have to get rid of it if it means too much to you. You can keep the pieces."

"No, John. I don't want to see it if I can't make music with it. There's no point."

I nodded and put a hand on his back, slowly directing him towards to kitchen where I pulled out the bin for him. He stared at it a good long time then held his violin at arm's length over it. Sherlock looked so distraught that I thought it was only polite to look away as you would when someone says goodbye to a loved one at a funeral.

With hesitation, he let one arm go and held it in his hand above the bin. Taking a deep breath, he looked away and dropped it. It made such little sound as it dropped that I had to make sure he hadn't actually caught it and taken it back, as I half-expected him to do.

"Are you okay, Sherlock?"

"I'm going for a walk."

Knowing the kind of person Sherlock was, this statement raised an alarm in me and I stopped him as he donned his coat and gloves.

"Sherlock, being destructive and just leaving isn't the remedy for..."I searched for a word, "sadness. I know you're upset but don't do anything stupid. It's only a violin."

"But it was _my _violin, John. Besides, I'm only going to look for a case. Work is the best cure for sorrow. I'm hoping Lestrade has something for me."

"Okay but if you're out too long; you know I'm going to assume the worst."

"And what's that? So far as I know, nothing is worse than what's already occurred."

"Dying, Sherlock is the worst thing that can happen to you. Knowing you, death isn't always so far away. Be careful. Text me later."

To my great surprise he smiled at me as he put on the final glove. He started laughing to himself as he went out the door and I stopped him, another time, to ask what was so funny.

"Its comments like that, John, that make people think we're a couple. '_Be careful...text me later'..._it's quite comical, actually."

"Well I'm glad it amuses you but I'm very serious."

As soon as it had came, the smile disappeared and he wore the same sorrowful expression he had worn previously. It made my head hurt a bit knowing there was nothing I could do. He left before I could even_ try_ to console him.

What a broken man...

I rushed to the window to watch him walk away, noting how seriously affected he was by this simple event. How could a violin have sentimental value to _Sherlock? _He was the _least _sentimental person I knew.

Of all people, who knew Sherlock Holmes could be so disturbed by the loss of an inanimate object. Oh well. The man loved mysteries but perhaps the largest mystery of all was himself.

VVVVVVVVVVVV

**This chapter is for doctorcoffeegirl** who gave me the idea of John consoling a sad Sherlock...and ultimately leading to a major part of this segment...THANKS!

Please review. I'm very nervous about the whole John/Sherlock thing. This is another tiny glimpse of what is going to be a couple, eventually...They'll get there, I promise you.


	23. Chapter 23

If you want to see what Sherlock gets John, go to my story "Twas Christmas At Baker Street" its kinda like a sneak peak/preview thing...and please review...thanks to all who have reviewed thus far.

-Myelle

VVVVVVVVVVVVVVV

Sherlock POV

My violin. My only friend for so many years until John came along...and the skull. At least John knew that I was upset. He was alive and could feel what I felt. The skull couldn't do that. I was thankful that I had one friend that wasn't an inanimate object.

Wait, I was forgetting Molly. My girlfriend would help me. What a silly name. Sayign girlfriend sounded so...immature. People had girlfriends in high school. Not now. She wasn't a fiancée so maybe Molly was my lover?

Who cares? There was one thing for sure...I just needed to see her.

VVVVVVVVVVV

John POV

Almost as soon as Sherlock left, Mrs. Hudson came up to check on me.

"John, is Sherlock alright? It sounded like he was upset. Did you two have a row? He really ought to keep his thoughts to himself-"

"No, no. We're fine, it's just that he broke his violin. Stepped on it, I think. He had to throw it in the bin."

"Oh dear!" she gasped as if she had just heard the saddest news in the world, "he loved that silly thing more than his own life."

"He actually cared for it?"

"Oh yes. He told me a story once about how he came to own it. he wasn't living here at the time, but he had come for a visit. I used to put him up when he had a bit too much to drink. Of course, I had already known how he got it, but I let him tell me anyways. "

I was surprised at this. I thought Sherlock only knew her from a case he previously worked on...something about her husband's execution. Apparently, as I would find from her story, I was very wrong in my assumption. There was more to Sherlock than what appears on the surface.

She offered to make a cuppa for us both before starting which I gratefully accepted. As I sipped my tea I listened to her extraordinary narrative.

"Sherlock's mother and I used to be neighbours. We were good friends even before he and his brother...what's his name..."

"Mycroft."

"Thanks, John. Yes, Mycroft was born and seven years later they had Sherlock. Their father was a professional violinist before quitting to become a part of the government. I can't imagine why. He was the best player I'd ever heard. His dream was to see his son on stage but Mycroft never took to violin. When Sherlock was born, he couldn't wait until he was old enough to play."

"How old did he have to be to start playing?"

"Well his parents thought, when he was three, that he was ready. Sherlock was a quick learner of all things and when he picked up that violin for the first time, he learned a full scale in no time. I believe it only took him two days-at age three! Imagine that!"

"It actually doesn't surprise me." I laughed.

"That violin was his father's which was _his_ father's too. It's been passed down two generations until it came to Sherlock and the boy back then was proud to own it, as he still is today. It was a Christmas gift and every Christmas Sherlock would play a private concert for his family and friends. Family friends, of course. He didn't really-"

"I know."

"Yes. Nonetheless, he played every year. He was very skilled by the time he was ten. That's when his father died. It was right before Christmas. What day is it today? The twenty second...right. It was twenty four years from tomorrow that he died. Let's see..." she said, calculating something in her head. "He got it when he was three and he's thirty four now. So he's had the violin for thirty one years."

"Wow, I can see why he was so upset. Oh God, I hadn't known it meant so much to him. I feel horrible, Mrs. Hudson. So that was his dead father's violin?"

"Yes. It meant so much to him." She said mournfully.

"And how did Sherlock take the death of his father? I mean, they must have been close, right?"

"Well, if you must know, Sherlock _still_ hasn't gotten over it. That's why he's so adverse to Christmas, John. Every year after he died, Sherlock would lock away his violin from the twenty third to until December 28th, which was the funeral. Sherlock isn't a sentimental kind of man, but he loved that violin and he loved his father. Now that both are gone, right around the same time, I don't know what he'll do. You'd better ring him up, John, make sure he's okay."

"I will. Thank you, Mrs. Hudson, for telling me all that. Maybe now I might understand him a bit better..." I said thoughtfully...still pondering the spectacular narrative she just told me.

Mrs. Hudson cleaned the tea cups and headed back down the stairs. I should have known form the way he cradled his instrument that it held more value than what meets the eye. I felt like a proper idiot for forcing him into celebrating with me. I was sure he was starting to enjoy it but I should have listened to him.

At least now I knew he was human. He's come a long way from seeing himself as a self-proclaimed sociopath.

But back to my original problem...what do you get a man like that for Christmas?

VVVVVVVVVVVVV

Sherlock POV

"Hey Sherlock." Molly greeted as she moved so I could step into her flat. She was joyful at first but I must have looked horrible because upon seeing my expression, she saddened immediately. Molly ushered me to the sofa where she frowned sympathetically at me and kissed me.

I took off my coat and she got up to hang it for me. When she came back, she had a cup of tea in her hand and offered it to me.

"Thanks, Molly."

"Anytime. Now, what's got you all upset? Is John okay?"

"Of course, why wouldn't he be?"

"Well just that when he was in the kidnapping and his fingers were-" I flinched, "Oh, sorry. We won't talk about that. What's wrong then, hmm?"

"I broke my violin."

She muttered some kind of sympathetic mumble that people do when something bad happens. I didn't really hear her. Molly put her arm around me and pulled my head so it rested on her shoulder. It felt reversed. Wasn't I supposed to be the one comforting her? Well, that is if she _needed _comforting.

"Do you want to watch a film or something to keep your mind away?"

"Sure. Just not a Christmas film please."

"Okay."

Molly kissed my head before she got up. She held up a mystery film and I nodded my head to it as she laughed, muttering that she figured I would agree to it. She got two glasses of my favourite red wine from the kitchen and cuddled up to me on the sofa.

"I love you." I said.

I could feel myself falling asleep and I fought it but soon gave up. I'm sure Molly wouldn't mind if I closed my eyes for a few minutes...

VVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVV

Molly POV

I leaned against Sherlock with my head on his shoulder. I figured he had fallen asleep when I felt his head drop against mine. I couldn't help but think that this position was a bit intimate for his usual taste, but after all, he was sleeping.

I sighed. I wish he'd come around more often. He might as well be John's boyfriend for all the attention he gives him. Not that I was jealous. I knew Sherlock had cases to solve and things to do.

My thoughts were interrupted by Sherlock's mobile ringing from his coat pocket. I debated letting it ring but as soon as it stopped, it started again minutes later. I slowly got up after the caller was on their third try reaching Sherlock.

I moved his head to the arm of the sofa and the mobile stopped almost immediately. I checked the caller ID. It was John, of course. I had expected it.

It rang again, startling me and I answered.

"Hello?"

"Molly? Is that you? Oh my God, is Sherlock alright? He was really upset when he left today and Mrs. Hudson told me about how much he loved his violin and then how much he hated Christmas and he left and I tried calling and when he didn't answer I-"

"Whoa, calm down, John. He's fine. Well, still upset, but physically, he's fine. Not hurt."

John sighed in relief.

"My god, I had thought he was in trouble. Why didn't he answer his mobile? Are you sure he's okay? Is he crying? Please say he isn't crying."

"He's not crying. I don't think Sherlock cries to be honest. We started watching a film and he kind of just fell asleep."

"Do you want me to come pick him up?"

"No, I think we'd better let him sleep. I'll leave him on my sofa tonight. Do you want me to ring you if anything changes?"

"Sure, thanks Molly. He's lucky to have you, really. We all are. Maybe it's about time I caught up on sleep myself. Thanks again, bye."

I said goodbye and sat down on the floor next to the sofa, leaning my back against it. I felt almost proud that Sherlock felt comfortable enough here to fall asleep. It was obvious to _anyone _that he would never have let himself nod off otherwise.

Like John, I needed to catch up on sleep too. Now was as good a time as ever.

I kissed Sherlock and went off to bed.

VVVVVVVVVVVV

Thanks to everyone who has read and reviewed. PLEASE TELL ME WHAT YOU THINK! I am at my father's house and the internet isn't very reliable. I'll try my best but no matter what I have to do...I PROMISE I will get my gift to you all up on Christmas day! Only three more days you have to wait...

Also, there might be multiple chapters updated until Christmas is here so that I can get the right chapter up on the 25th.


	24. Chapter 24

Please review! I need feedback to know how I'm doing! I'm a bit nervous with this chapter for some reason...

VVVVVVVVVVVVV

Sherlock POV

When I awoke, I wasn't surprised to find myself on Molly's sofa, spread out and half-falling off. I could smell something cooking in the kitchen. I realized how hungry I was then.

"Good morning sunshine." She said in a sing-song voice. I smiled and motioned for her to lean down so I could kiss her on the cheek.

I got up and followed her to the dining room where I was greeted by the lovely sight of eggs, toast, and potatoes.

"Wow, what's all this?"

"Well, it's so rare that you come over and even more rare that you stay. So, if you're not busy, I thought we could maybe...have breakfast?"

"I feel horrible. My own girlfriend has to _ask _me to stay for breakfast. Of course I'll stay. I fee; like such a cad. Is it really that rare that I come over?"

"Well, yeah, actually. I don't mind though. I know you're busy with John and your cases."

"But really, I should never be too busy for you. Next time I start ignoring you, make me come over. Sometimes I just...forget."

I saw her frown. Uh oh. Wrong words. I guess girls don't like to be forgotten about. But I was being honest. It wasn't my fault if I had too much on my mind some days. Is till saw her when I worked my cases-usually. _No. _I told myself. That still wasn't good enough. Any man would be lucky to have a woman like Molly. For some ridiculous reason she chose me. I would regret it my whole life if I lost her now.

It was strange to have someone love me. At first it was just John who respected me, not so much loved me, but then Molly.

I don't think I'd ever get used to it.

"John called last night." Molly said as she dished herself some eggs. I think she was trying to change the subject. God, I'm such a jerk.

"Did he? What did he need to talk to you about?"

"Well, he called your mobile. It took me awhile to get up but I answered it. He was worried after you didn't pick up the first couple times."

I laughed. John was so over dramatic, but I suppose he was right. I always picked up first ring if possible. Not answering my phone after multiple calls probably meant I was dead or dying. I laughed again as I imagined him freaking out over my safety. He was so loyal.

"It's not funny, Sherlock. He was really scared. But don't tell him I told you that. After he calmed down I explained you were sleeping. He offered to pick you up but I think you needed your sleep."

"Great." I began sarcastically. "So now I'm a bad boyfriend _and _an infant. Honestly, he offered to 'pick me up?'"

Molly nodded and laughed light-heartedly.

VVVVVVVVVVVVVV

John POV

When I woke up, I could hear Sherlock pacing and mumbling to himself in the sitting room downstairs. I quickly got dressed and went to see him.

Last night, after Mrs. Hudson's story, I wasn't sure if I wanted to ask him about such a touchy subject. I wasn't even sure if we were still going to celebrate Christmas anymore but Mrs. Hudson had said before leaving that it was the best thing for him to not fall back on it now. I think I agree with her.

When I entered the room, Sherlock was sitting on with a cup of tea cradled in his hands.

"How was your night at Molly's? Are you feeling better? She told me you fell asleep on her sofa."

"I'm angry, John. I'm a terrible person and now my violin is wrecked which only proves that point even more so. You know, that violin has been in my family for years. It my grandfathers, then my fathers, then mine and I was the one to break it. And I don't deserve Molly after all she's done. I thought I was feeling better at breakfast this morning but as I started walking home, I began to feel bad again. Why am I like this? I don't understand."

"Well, first of all, people aren't supposed to understand emotions. If you're upset, just be upset for a while. Take your time. And you and Molly deserve _each other. _You both have bad moments and you help each other through them. It's how couples work."

"But that's not Molly and I...it's more like me and you."

"Don't...just...don't say that anymore."

I watched his expression turn from worried to concentrated as he pondered his relationship. I remembered from previous failed relationships that thinking about where you stand with someone is never a good idea and usually leads to a break up. I was happy for Sherlock that he was in a functional relationship. I didn't want him to break up with Molly or vice versa. It might actually kill him for something else to fall apart in his life.

I needed something to make him stop...but how do you distract Sherlock Holmes?

"Sherlock, I think it's best if you don't think about it for a while."

"Well I usually distract myself with my violin but now that it's gone forever, I really have no choice but to think, do I?"

"Yes you do. I have an idea. Why don't you give Molly a call and go down to Mrs. Hudson's flat? Invite them for Christmas dinner. I know we weren't going to have one but it'll be nice for everyone to celebrate together. Actually, invite Molly to stay over for Christmas morning too. I think that if you want to get the whole experience, you need the people you love around to open gifts with, right?"

"Why don't you invite them?"

"Molly is _your _girlfriend and this is _your _Christmas. This is for you Sherlock; therefore, _you _have to invite them. Unless you'd rather not have dinner. We don't have to-"

"No, no. I want to."

I smiled in triumph. He told me he'd ring them later and he sipped at his tea.

"Did you get Molly anything for a gift? She got you one. It's nice, too. I think you'll literally be speechless."

His excitement visually peeked when he heard he'd be getting a gift. As if he hadn't already known...

"I was thinking about it but I was more concentrated on a gift for-well, someone else. I hate stores, but I suppose I can ignore my hatred for a day. Or I could just pay her a Christmas carol on my vio-" he started, but stopped himself, "well, I guess I can't. Stores it is then."

For one horrifying moment, I though Sherlock Holmes was going to cry. His expression dropped and he looked to the ground, muttering something about ringing our future guests now opposed to later.

As I watched him leave I instantaneously began to calculate my saved money into how much I would need for my new idea. I was certain I'd have enough. I'd been saving my money for a long time, after all. I would even have money left over.

So it was settled. The perfect gift for Sherlock was a new violin.

VVVVVVVVVVVVV

Sherlock POV

So it was settled. Molly would come for Christmas Eve. She was a bit surprised when I asked her to stay over for the night and open gifts with us Christmas morning but agreed to anyways. When I hung up I could barely contain my excitement. John's idea was a great one. I wasn't even upset anymore.

More amazed, really, than anything that I was actually celebrating the holidays.

I went down the stairs to extend the invitation to Mrs. Hudson which she gratefully accepted. Wirth our plans in order, I ran back up the stairs to thank John.

Without him, I think I'd still be the miserable scrooge that I was only a few weeks ago. I like the 'new' me much better.

VVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVV

Thanks for reading. Please review. I know I updated earlier today but I've got to make room for the 25th! I'm so excited to post that chapter...you have no idea. I don't have time to read over this one so bare with me because I think there are many mistakes.

Please tell me how I did. I'm nervous about this one. Next chapter will be better, promise!


	25. Chapter 25

Hey everyone! Thanks for reviewing and reading thus far...please keep the review coming. My goal is one hundred on this story. Help me reach it? Pretty please? LOL

-Myelle

VVVVVVVVVVVVVVV

John POV

It was Christmas Eve and there were only two hours before our guest arrived at five. Sherlock, of course, hadn't offered to help with any of the cooking. I suppose it was for the best though, as it wasn't particularly my Christmas wish to have the house burned down. Instead, he was busy at work in his room on something probably equally dangerous.

I had the bird in the oven, just a small one for the four of us, and I had to start the potatoes and cranberry sauce and everything I could remember from my childhood Christmas dinners. I was a bit behind in my work, but I think I could pull it off. I wanted very badly for Sherlock to have a memorable Christmas...in the good way, of course.

Although I had things running smoothly, it was too much work for one person to do alone. I couldn't very well ask Mrs. Hudson for help. She was a guest. I guess I'd need Sherlock after all. Sighing to myself in defeat, I went to knock on his bedroom door.

"Sherlock?"

"One minute John."

"Okay, meet me in the kitchen."

When Sherlock wondered into the kitchen a few minutes later, he smelled the air and complemented me on the hard work I've done.

"Could you not smell it in your room?"

"No. I had the room sealed so no odour gets in or out. I did it a while ago when you started getting headaches form my experiments."

"Oh, well that was thoughtful. Thank you. I had no idea you did that. That aside though, I could really use some help if you're not too busy. I don't think dinner will be ready in time if I do this alone."

"Sure, what do you need me to do?"

I was surprised by his willingness to help for a minute but I decided it must simply be the Christmas spirit in him. Perhaps, but probably not. He might have messed up his head temporarily with one of those silly experiments of his. He'll kill himself one day.

I instructed him to help me start peeling potatoes which he stated right away. As we peeled, we conversed about our plans for tonight and tomorrow morning.

"Is there a certain time that people wake up?"

"No, but children are usually the first to wake up. I remember waking up and going and crawling into my mum and dad's bed waiting for them to wake up. When they finally woke up, we always went to my sister's room, woke her up and went downstairs together as a family to open our gifts. I think it was best and worst time of my life-waiting for them to wake up."

I smiled, remembering how I could barely contain my excitement as I laid between my mum and dad as a boy. Harry, I recall, would always wear a sour expression for being woken up until we got downstairs and opened our first gifts. We hadn't had a lot of money but we always made Christmas work.

Even Harry and I saved our allowance all year to get our parents something nice.

"Did you find anything for Molly?"

"I went yesterday to the shop and found a couple jumpers. They're nice. I also found some chocolates and soaps. Mrs. Hudson actually gave me the idea. I might have bought something ridiculous had I not been given advice. Do you think she'll like it? is it as good as her gift to me?"

"Um, not really to be honest...I think her gift is still a bit better but don't worry, she'll love it anyway. She honestly wasn't expecting anything."

"Why not? It's Christmas. Everyone gets gifts."

"You wouldn't even be celebrating at all had I not forced you into it. And I think Molly thinks you'd forget. But don't get upset, it's not your fault. It's how you are. You know what? I think I'll just top talking for a bit. You're a good boyfriend. She loves you no matter what." I said. I saw Sherlock frown when I said molly expected him to forget. Remembering his misery last night, I realized I had probably just said the worst thing possible.

"It's alright. I've changed through Christmas. I won't be so forgetful from now on. I'm going to try to be...nice."

I laughed at him. Not that this was impossible, but at the way he said 'nice' with a scowl. He laughed with me and things were seemingly good again.

The potatoes were peeled within ten minutes and we washed them, chopped them and put them in a pot to boil.

"John, ar ewe done? I have to put Molly ad Mrs. Hudson's gifts under the tree."

"sure. Go ahead. I think I can handle the rest. But if I need you-"

"Just say the words."

"Thanks, Sherlock."

He rushed off to find his gifts. There were now five gifts under the tree. When Sherlock counted he couldn't figure out why there was an extra.

"I got one for Molly too. Then there's one for you. Well, actually there are two for you. That one is just a small one. Your real present is hiding. But don't go looking for it. You'll ruin the surprise."

"Why do I have two? I only got you-"

"You got me a gift?"

"Yes, but it's not done. But you didn't answer me yet. Why do I have two?"

"Well, every Christmas Eve when I was a kid, it was customary to open one gift. Now, usually it was pyjamas but you're not a child so I got you something I though you could use. Since this is your first Christmas is a while I thought you could use something to remember it by. Actually you should probably open it now. Guests are arriving soon."

I passed the brightly coloured package to Sherlock and he examined it completely, with a smile, before ripping open the paper. His mouth dropped open when he saw a small camera inside the box.

"John, I...wow. Really? This is..."

"Well it's not very fancy, so don't get overly excited. It'll work fine though. I had to get the cheaper one because I used most the money on my other gift for you."

"It's perfect!"

He took it out of the box and quickly looked it over. Running to the kitchen, he found the first batteries he could find-ones that weren't flat-and popped them in.

"Smile." He instructed, pointing the camera at me. I laughed and he snapped the picture.

"so what have you been working on all week in your room? Something for a case?"

"That's a dumb question." He said bluntly, "How could I possibly have a case without my partner knowing? You'll see tomorrow what I've been doing. It's your gift, actually, but I can't show you when people are here. They won't care anyways. It's only for you."

"Okay then. Get back to whatever you were doing..."

I turned back into the kitchen and he snapped a picture of me as I walked away. I think the camera might have been a bad idea...

VVVVVVVVVVVV

Sherlock POV

I was so close to finishing John's gift. There were only a few rhymes left. Every time I made a new rhyme I was one step closer but now it made me nervous.

What if John didn't like poetry? What if he didn't like _my _poetry?

I don't think he would say it, but I would still be able to tell. And the fact that he didn't like it, no matter how much he would try to cover that up would be too much. I worked so hard already to go back now but it wasn't even close to being finished.

I feel guilty after getting the camera. I hadn't spent any money on him. Maybe if I went out I could-no. There was no time to go out now. I was stuck giving John my poem. I hated having second thoughts but I think I would definitely try to find something else had I had enough time.

I'll have to apologize.

Maybe if I helped him with dinner I could make up for it.

"John!" I yelled form my room.

"What?" he yelled back.

"Need help?"

"Well, actually if you're not too busy, I think I could."

"Okay! I'll be there in minute."

"BOYS!" we heard from downstairs. "STOP YELLING OR I'LL COME UP THERE AND-"

"Okay, Mrs. Hudson!" we shouted in unison before breaking into shared laugher.

"I wish everyday were like this." I told John. I don't think I've ever said anything more honest in my entire life.

VVVVVVVVVVVVVV

Please review! There might be another chapter up tonight...actually yeah, count on it. In approximately five hours...

Happy Christmas Eve, everyone! Tomorrow you'll all get your gift!

(well, it's actually Sherlock's gift to John, but I wrote it for all of you. So you're all John, I guess... whatever...haha)

OH! And Sherlock starts realizing his feelings for John soon! WOO HOO!


	26. Chapter 26

Hello Everyone! Happy Christmas Eve! _Please_ review!

No time to edit this, so please ignore any mistakes you might find.

-Myelle

VVVVVVVVVVVVVVVV

John POV

Mrs. Hudson let Molly in downstairs and they introduced themselves before t hey were even up the stairs. Sherlock ran in from the kitchen and greeted our guests with me.

"Okay everyone, I need you all to pose for a picture. Stand-yes-right over there."

I put my arms around Molly and Mrs. Hudson and he set the camera down, putting on the timer. He ran to where we were and rushed in behind us, extending his arms around all three of us. All of us smiled widely and the flash went off.

When he showed us the picture on the little screen, it was perfectly taken. The tree was to the right of us and you could see part of the snow outside through the window. The lights from the tree were brightly colouring the right side of our faces and it looked spectacular.

"Where did you get a camera, Sherlock?" Mrs. Hudson asked the new photographer.

"John got it for me as a gift. It's customary, apparently to open one gift on Christmas."

Sherlock explained to them my old tradition as I exited to the kitchen to check on our dinner. To my relief, everything was nearly finished. We had laid the table earlier so everyone could take their seat as they entered. Even though there were actually only two guests.

Sherlock came into the kitchen and opened a bottle of wine. He brought it to the table then came back to help me put the food onto serving tableware.

Within a half hour, dinner was served.

VVVVVVVVVVVVVV

Sherlock POV

John's dinner was fantastic. I should really make him cook more often.

After we were finished we all pitched in with covering up the surplus food and doing to dishes. Mrs. Hudson steeped us some tea and when we were finished we took it around the fire place.

The room was brightly decorated for Christmas with garland and lights. John and I got complements on it. Even my skull had a Santa hat on. But it wasn't lights that made the room nicer. I think it was our company. Our wonderful landlady-_not _housekeeper- and my beautiful girlfriend.

"Well boys, and Molly, it's getting late. I've got an early train to catch tomorrow to see my sister."

"I'll walk you to your door, Mrs. Hudson." I offered.

When she was done saying goodbye, we went downstairs to her flat. Once there, she looked around to see if John or Molly was around and began talking quietly.

"That Molly is such a sweet girl, Sherlock."

"I know. I'm very lucky."

"She really is wonderful but I had thought you and John were a couple. You get along so well."

"I thought so too. I mean, we act like it but John says we aren't."

"What a pity he doesn't feel the same. He's fit, Sherlock. I bet he's an excellent lover too."

"That will do, Mrs. Hudson. Thank you for joining us."

"Thank you for including me. I'll see you when I get back. Don't burn down my house or kill your flatmate."

"No promises, but I'll try."

She shrugged. I guess that was good enough for her.

When I walked back up the stairs, John and Molly were whispering excitedly to one another. I heard my name and my interest peaked.

Molly saw me first and put her hands over John's and motioned her head in my direction to stop him from giving away information. She explained they were talking about my gift.

"Mrs. Hudson was right. It's getting late though. I'll see you both in the morning. Thanks again for staying over Molly." John said.

Molly and I hastily got our pyjamas on and brushed our teeth before crawling under the covers of my bed. I scooted over to wrap my arms around her. I liked the feeling of holding her.

"Happy Christmas, Sherlock." She said and I could tell she was already falling asleep. I wished her a happy Christmas and yawned, getting tired myself.

Before I let myself fall asleep I thanked whatever higher power was up there, if any, that I had John as my flatmate just upstairs and Molly in my arms. I couldn't think of a better way to spend Christmas Eve.

VVVVVVVVVVVVVV

So, please review and tell me about your thoughts on Molly and Sherlock...tomorrow you will start seeing more of John/Sherlock and then the segment will end soon after.

I'm a bit sad that Molly/ Sherlock will start to decrease in progress but I told you at the beginning of the story that John/Sherlock was the initial plan of the plotline so please don't get mad if you liked Molly/Sherlock. I promise you they will come to a happy end.

( you may be thinking, a happy breakup? How? Don't worry...I have my ways)

-please review-

-Myelle


	27. Chapter 27

**PLEASE READ: **I formally apologize for talking so long for get to the John/ Sherlock part. I know it's been a slow moving story and I hope you've all remained interested throughout but after this chapter, things are going to speed up again. Again, to all the readers who don't celebrate Christmas, I apologize and I wish you happy holidays, of whatever you happen to be celebrating. This chapter is kind of like a turning point and really hope you enjoy it. Please review and have a Happy Christmas or Holiday!

Sincerely Yours,  
Myelle White

P.S-this is a VERY long chapter. I recommend waiting for later if you don't have much time.

VVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVV

Sherlock POV

I woke up at 6:12 exactly. I knew it was childish, but I couldn't sleep-I was too excited.

John's poem was finished after some last minute changes. I made everything so it better suited what we did last night with all our guests and the meal and what not. It made better sense. I couldn't even remember how many drafts I had done. I hope John likes it. I bet Mycroft would have something to say, too. He'd probably tease me for having it too sentimental and sappy but I don't care. I didn't even care if he watched anymore, which I knew he would. Really, I just wanted the poem out of the way.

The wait for Molly and John to wake up might actually kill me. I would _literally _die of boredom. What did John say he did? Right...he went and laid in his parent's bed. Well, I don't think John would take too kindly to me sleeping in his bed. Actually, he probably wouldn't mind. But Molly was here. Damn. Unless...

"Molly, wake up."

"What?"

"I'm going to go see Mrs. Hudson off on her trip."

"Okay, have fun, dear."

Well, that was easier than I expected.

I walked up the stairs slowly so as not to disturb anyone. When I got to his door, I paused. John might get suspicious if I went upstairs to his bed without any legitimate reason. Instead of walking in, I went back downstairs to make some coffee to bring him. At least now I could blame my presence in his bed on my idea of bringing him coffee.

When the coffee was brewed, I put two cups, the coffee pot, and some cream and sugar onto a tray and brought them up with me. I tired to be quiet but his door creaked as if I nudged it open with my foot.

"Sherlock?"

Shit.

"Good morning, John. Wait, are you okay? You look exhausted." I observed. I was right, of course. John looked like he hadn't slept in days. He smiled at the coffee but not even the smile could brighten the look on his face. He looked...sad.

"Yeah, I'm fine. Just a bit tired. I didn't sleep last night. Thanks for the coffee but why are you up here? You didn't come up to bring me coffee. You only do that when you're trying to cover something up."

I underestimate him. Maybe not _everyone _was an idiot. Just everyone save for me and John. I explained I was too excited to sleep and I think he knew what I was getting at. He scooted over closer to the edge of the bad and motioned for me to crawl in on the other side.

I obeyed, of course. John's sheets were warm and cozy. Much softer than mine. Probably because he washed them more often. Note to self: wash sheets when John does.

"Is it normal for two men to share a bed, John?"

"Uh, no. But we're far from normal, well; you are anyways, so I suppose its okay for us. Just don't make a habit out of it. I do need my sleep you know."

"Don't worry, I won't bother you. Go to sleep and I won't say a word."

"Thanks. Goodnight Sherlock."

"Goodnight, John."

He laid down and I moved closer to my side to give him more room as I following suit and laid down beside him. I was so comfortable that I was asleep within minutes.

VVVVVVVVVVV

Molly POV

I woke up at nine, and there was no sign of Sherlock anywhere. I vaguely remembered him telling me he was going to say goodbye to the landlady but I thought that was at six. It was three hours later and he still wasn't back.

I took a quick look around the flat and when I couldn't find him I figured I might as well get dressed before going up to ask john if he had seen him. I admit I was stalling. I didn't really want to wake John up, just in case he was having a good sleep but we couldn't have Christmas without Sherlock. This was all for him, after all.

When I finished getting dressed as slowly as I could, there was still no sign of him. It was now half nine and I was getting worried he had gone out. Sighing, I realized I'd have to go ask John.

I stalked up the stairs slowly and opened the door. What I saw made me gasp in surprise and I had to clap a hand over my mouth to keep from laughing.

Running now, but as quietly as I could, I located Sherlock's new camera. I was relieved to see they hadn't moved and inch when I got back.

Sherlock and John were fast asleep, side by side, in the middle of John's bed. John's head was resting on Sherlock's shoulder and Sherlock's head was resting on John's. They had the throw pulled right up to their necks and they looked like little children sleeping so closely together. I even saw coffee that Sherlock must have brought up for them. It didn't look like they drank any though.

I tried to stifle my laughter as I took in the sight and snapped a few photo shots.

When I was completely satisfied with my pictures, I returned back downstairs, waiting for them to wake up.

Sometimes I had the feeling they were more than just friends...

VVVVVVVVVVVV

John POV

When I awoke, I felt warm and comfortable but also strange. There was something resting on my head and it only took em a second to figure out it was Sherlock.

"Sherlock, wake up."

Sleepily, Sherlock stretched his arms but kept his head on mine. I sighed and nudged him a bit but he still wouldn't move.

"Sherlock, get off of my head!"

"Oh, sorry John. How did we get so close?"

"I have no idea, but this isn't exactly the nicest way to wake up."

"On the contrary, I think it's a very nice way to wake up. It's intimate and peaceful."

"Okay, let me rephrase that: it's not a nice way to wake up next to your male flatmate."

"Right."

Sherlock ad I moved away from each other and got out of bed slowly. We stretched, I pulled on a jumper, then we walked downstairs to find Molly snickering at something on Sherlock's camera.

Sherlock asked what was so funny and she showed him the pictures. I couldn't see from where I was standing but they were obviously very funny. Probably something I wouldn't understand though...so I went to the kitchen to make tea.

"John! You might want to see this!" Sherlock called, still laughing.

I abandoned the steeper and found Sherlock just around the corner holding out the camera for me to look at. It only took one glance to figure out the whole story. Molly must have been looking for Sherlock only to find us-pressed against one another-in the same bed.

"I couldn't resist! I had to take a picture. You both looked so cute sleeping together. Do you sleep together often?"

"NO!" we yelled in unison.

"It's just that Sherlock couldn't sleep and neither could I. He came up with coffee and I invited him to hop into bed. We were both so tired we just fell asleep. For the record I have no recollection of how we ended up so snuggled up together. It's the first time it's happened, promise."

"However, I can't promise it's the last time."

"SHERLOCK!" I scolded.

"What? We both had an excellent sleep."

"I'm so sorry, Molly."

"I don't mind. It was sweet."

We laughed and finally sat down to start opening gifts. I could see how the excitement was keeping Sherlock awake...I could barely sit still.

VVVVVVVVVVVVVV

Sherlock POV

I wasn't lying. I had the best sleep of my life last night. Well, this morning really. I was completely relaxed but energized at the same time. Ready for anything! I'd have to make a point to sleep in John's bed again one day and test this feeling.

Molly gifts were given first. She was delighted by my present for her. John's too. He got her a scarf to match her jacket. It matched her jumper too. All were a light shade of blue. Blue looked best on her.

When that was finished, she gave us our gifts. John got a new jumper and I got a pass to my favourite lab at Bart's hospital.

"Oh my God, Molly, I don't know what to say! This is fantastic!"

"I thought you'd like it. I figured it would just save you time when you have experiments to do. I know you have limited time and signing in is such a chore sometimes."

"Thank you. I love it! I love _you!_"

I kissed her right in front of John. I know he found it awkward, but I don't care. This was the most thoughtful gift I could imagine.

"Do you want to open up my gift now? You can wait if you prefer-"

"No! I'll open it now. That's more than fine."

"Okay, close your eyes."

I gave Molly a questioning look to silently ask if it was necessary. She nodded for me to do it and she had a wide grin on her face. I could tell I was going to love this. John rushed upstairs to get it, calling down to Molly to see if my eyes were actually closed.

"Why do they have to be closed?"

"Well, he couldn't exactly wrap it and we both want to see your face. This gift tops mine in every way!"

"Impossible."

Finally he was downstairs. It seemed like forever that he stood before me. I wanted to open my eyes but they seemed glued together. I was determined not to ruin the surprise ahead of time. Finally he said the words, "open your eyes," and I took in a deep breath, ready after all this waiting to see what the gift was.

My eyes shifted down to John's outstretched hands delicately holding the most beautiful violin I think I've ever seen. The polish gleamed and the dark, almost red colour of the wood seemingly matched the red lights of the tree. I was absolutely in shock. For a minute, I thought this was a dream but then John took my hands and placed the instrument in them. I was paralyzed in surprise and wonder.

I never expected my gift to be this nice.

He handed me the bow and I gently placed it onto the violin and positioned it under my chin. I closed my eyes and played a slow note. The sound was perfectly pitched and in tune. It had a hollow, yet full sound. If angels existed, this is what they sounded like. It was the only way to describe how truly breathtaking the music was.

"John, I..."

"I know it's not your father's violin but that one was beyond repair and I missed your music, truth be told, when you were living without a violin. I figured that maybe you could start over. If you ever have children, pass this on to them, and if not, pass it onto a child you know. It doesn't have the same history as the old one but it doesn't mean there's never going to be any."

"I don't care if it's not my father's. This is the most beautiful instrument I've ever seen. It doesn't need history."

"What do you mean?"

"Well, in a way, this violin already has a story to it. I'll make sure that whoever this goes to after I die knows exactly who got it for me and what it means. This violin is the most perfect thing I could have hoped for. It represents our entire Christmas, John. I'm so happy I could kiss you right now."

"Oh, just do it, Sherlock. You've already slept together." Molly teased.

Without needing further encouragement, I took John's head in my hands, handing the violin to Molly. I think John was too shocked to move as I placed a quick peck on his lips. The three of us, after John getting over the initial shock of being kissed by a man, laughed so hard we had tears in our eyes.

VVVVVVVVVVVVVV

John POV

Molly left soon after Sherlock and I cooked breakfast. She offered to help but we refused, insisting she was our guest. She thanked us, gave us both a quick kiss and left with her gifts. She made me promise, when Sherlock couldn't hear, that I'd tell her what he got me.

"John, I don't think I can take being this nervous anymore so I want to give you your gift now, if that's okay."

"Sure."

"Okay. Sit down. I have to read it to you. It's not actually something I spent money on, rather something I spent time on. I'll be right back, I just have to get it."

I nodded and watched him hastily run to his desk, unlock the drawer, and take out a folded note. There were two pages, carefully folded into a square with his messy handwriting on it. That was probably why he was going to read it-because there was no way in hell that _I _would be able to.

He cleared his throat and took a deep breath.

"Please don't think I'm stupid. I tried, I really did, but I'm not a very skilled writer..."

"It's alright. I'm sure it's fine."

And in a clear voice he began...

"'_Twas Christmas at Baker Street _

_When all through the flat,_

_I watched my friend John,_

_By the window he sat._

_The Christmas tree stood in the corner with lights_

_The colours transforming the dark sitting room bright_

_The landlady, Mrs. Hudson, brought us tea from the steeper _

_While she gently reminded us she was not our housekeeper._

_Molly arrives, looking most beautiful,_

_As John and I search for plates that are useable._

_It's my first normal Christmas and I'm very excited,_

_All thanks to john, we are now all united._

_It's a small crowd, of course, but it will suffice._

_For the few us here, it feels just right._

'_Perfect' is the word we use to describe _

_The wonderful dinner had by our own little tribe._

_When dinner is finished, we sit round the fire,_

_Decorations hung for us to admire._

_With tea in each hand and warmth in each heart,_

_Not rain, snow, or ice could keep us apart._

_I'm so grateful for everything that's happened this year._

_Though I don't often say it, John, I'm so glad you're here. _

_This poem's getting awkward, so I'll take it right back;_

_To the humour and fun that our lives often lack._

_To the time when you caught me shooting our wall;_

_Take your mind make and remember it all._

_The months I've spent in our Baker Street flat,_

_Have been the best of my life, I promise you that. _

_You're a wonderful friend, flatmate, and doctor._

_I'd truly be lost without my dear blogger._

_When Lestrade's at the door, it's hard to stay put;_

_And with you by my side, the game is afoot!_

_We're a team like no other, a dynamic duo._

_You're my first real partner, I hope that you know._

_After hearing this poem, you'll see I can't write._

_So now finish, dear John, with Happy Christmas...and I bid you goodnight. "_

I was speechless. I stood up, staring at the strangest man I knew and smiled.

"Well, " he began, "I suppose it's not goodnight, it's actually good morning but it rhymes so I didn't think you'd mind."

"Sherlock, this is brilliant! Honest to God, you nearly had me in tears. How did you manage to write something like that? I never imagined you as one for poetry."

"Well I'm not, really, but I thought I could make an exception for Christmas."

I embraced Sherlock and took the papers from his hands, attempting to reread the poem.

"I can copy it out for you legibly."

"Thanks."

"No problem. Happy Christmas, John."

"Indeed, Happy Christmas, Sherlock."

As I let go of my best friend and watched him wander into the kitchen, I realized how much this man really meant to me. It felt wrong to feel like this. The realization hit me like a brick and I couldn't stop it. It snuck up on me. But I wouldn't fight it. I knew this would break my heart and rip me to pieces but there was no way of combating the feelings away.

For some reason unknown, which didn't matter anyway, I was in love with Sherlock Holmes. Boy, am I in for trouble...

VVVVVVVVVVVVV

**THIS CONCLUDES SEGMEANT THREE!**

**Please review and I tell me what you think of John's newfound feelings...**

**I was debating forever on which of the boys to make fall in love with whom first...after reading some other fanfiction stories, I decided that having Sherlock fall in love was becoming a cliché. I didn't want to do that because it's just annoying to me now...but please tell me if you agree or disagree...everyone has their own opinions! **** all are welcome**

**PLEASE REVIEW! And have a very Happy (or merry?) Christmas. **


	28. Chapter 28

**SEGMENT FOUR BEGINS NOW!**

**Thank you for reading and reviewing thus far and please let me know if you have any suggestions...**

**PLEASE REVIEW! This is my start to John/Sherlock...I've never written about a same sex couple before so I'm a bit nervous **

VVVVVVVVVVVVVVVV

Sherlock POV

My head spun and I got up off Molly's couch. I couldn't believe what was happening. No, this was dream. It had to be.

"Molly, that's a big step."

"It's just moving in. Besides, you can't live with John forever. One of you has to leave sometime. Why not let it be you. You're here most of the time anyways."

"But-I don't know. I have to think. I'll be back later."

I got up and ran from the apartment as fast as I could. Screw getting a taxi the air would do me good.

How could she ask me to move in with her? We had only been dating a few months...well actually we'd been dating a while now. It has been five weeks since Christmas and it was now February. It liked where we were right now. I didn't want to move forward. I don't want to move in because that leads to marriage. I don't want to marry her. Not yet anyways. No, I definitely didn't want to marry her ever. _Then what am I doing?_

I couldn't leave John for her. They were now almost equal in my eyes with John being more on my good side instead of Molly. When I started dating Molly it was always her I cared about more. And I knew I didn't love John, so I guess I don't love Molly.

I couldn't move in with her. I needed to talk to John.

VVVVVVVVVVVV

John POV

Sherlock had spent the last two days at Molly's house. They were getting pretty close. His unscheduled comings and goings aren't exactly healthy for my growing feelings for him. When he was here I thought I could have a chance with him but then he left for Molly's and I knew I'd never have a chance and this back and forth banter would start again in my head.

I loved him so much it actually-physically-hurt. The clichés of loving someone you aren't mean to be with were now happening to me. When he was close my heart sped up and I got sweaty hands. And when we were out working and people assumed we were a couple, I stopped correcting them. Maybe if someone else believed it, it could be true one day.

Sadly, however, Molly held his heart. And it kills me. I just want him for myself. I want him to love me a fraction of how much I love him because that would be enough to let me hold him and maybe even kiss him.

How did this happen? I was in love with women before meeting him. Now I loved men? Well...really just _one _man. Sherlock-_bloody_-Holmes. Fuck. If Sherlock had this affect on a seemingly straight man then how on earth had Molly survived so long when he constantly ignored her?

No matter what I did or how much I wanted him or craved him, Molly would always be ahead of me because she was a woman. She was Sherlock's woman and he was her man. It wasn't fair. How could God or whoever happened to be up there-maybe even Mycroft...(I had my suspicions)-let me love someone so much and not ever be allowed to have it?

I think I would have told him if only I wasn't so afraid he would hate me. I could handle him not loving me but for him to hate me. To put simply, I wouldn't survive through that kind of torture. And what if I told him and he left? That was the worst possible punishment I could imagine. So I kept my mouth shut for fear of losing my long-shot-unrequited-love-object. Fuck.

It was because of this fact that I could literally feel my heart tear apart when Sherlock rushed into the flat to tell me his "news."

"Molly asked me to move in with her."

I held back my cry of anguish, having to bite my tongue to do so.

"But what about Mrs. Hudson? And me? What about me? Not that I'm not happy for you but I'll have to make a lot of changes."

"I know. I know you can't afford the flat on your own so I'm going to say no."

"Sherlock, you know I'd be sad to see you leave, and yes, I'd need a second job, or even a third, but please don't let me be the reason you're unhappy. If you want to move out, go ahead."

"But that's the thing. I don't want to. "

He dropped himself on the sofa and patted the seat next to me for me to sit in. I obeyed and bit back my smile so he wouldn't see I was secretly happy that he wanted to stay.

"I have to tell her no. But what if she breaks up with me, John? I mean, at the moment it wouldn't bother me but it might later. I'm not sure if I love her anymore."

"What? When did this happen?" I said, smiling inwardly. God, I was such a prick but today might actually turn out to be a good day.

"I realized on the walk home that I like you more than I like Molly and I don't love you so how I could love her?"

I nodded and tried to hide my mixed emotions from taking turns appearing on my frozen face. To hear him say he didn't love Molly made my soul fly and soar but to hear that he didn't love me brought it crashing back down.

"I guess-" he began, "-that I value your friendship more than her affection. I'd better go talk to her. I hope she doesn't hate me though. I don't want her to break up with me over something so trivial as moving in. Well, actually I guess it's a big deal or I wouldn't be so opposed to it."

He sighed, got up, and left. As he closed the door behind him I couldn't help but notice (for the thousandth time) how damn good he looked in that silly coat of his.

Ugh, I should just shoot myself. Stupid love.

VVVVVVVVVVVVV

Well I hope I got John's confusion across nicely. Please review. Next chapter is has a really sweet moment between John and Sherlock...I think you'll like it. (I hope, anyways)


	29. Chapter 29

Hello everyone. Thank you for the reviews ad please keep them coming! I'm almost at my goal of 100! Plus, I could really use the feedback. If people don't like it, I want to know. ( I want to know if you do like it too, of course)

-Myelle –Happy New years

VVVVVVVVVV

Sherlock POV

"Molly, we need to talk."

"I know. Me first though. Please."

I waved my hand in her direction for her to start talking. I sat down beside her on the sofa and she grabbed my hands. I had a bad feeling that I wouldn't like what she was about to say.

It was true that Molly was _here_ but John was _there. _And my work was with John. Though there are now people I love in my life, I still really only cared about the work. If Molly cared about me, she'd know that.

"Sherlock, I've been thinking while you were out and I realized that it's not fair for me to ask you to move in. It would be getting in the way of your job and I realized something else as well. I realized, Sherlock, that if you aren't willing to move in with me then this relationship is going nowhere."

"What do you mean?"

"If you don't even want to move in with me then what are we doing? We can't stay stuck in the same place our whole lives. Maybe it's fine for you but I don't want that. I want a man that wants to be with me. I can see that you care about me, but you don't really love me, Sherlock. I wish you did, I really do, but I don't think it's possible. I'm just not right for you. I still love you, but I'm breaking up with you."

"What?"

"We can still be friends, but I don't think we should be anything more."

She was crying as she let go of my hands. I took that as my cue to get up. I left the flat, not wanting to look at her again. It would make me feel even worse, if possible.

I can't believe she was breaking up with me. This isn't supposed to happen. I know now why I didn't let people in before. They only tore you down. I had been unknowingly protecting myself from this all those years and I can't believe I let myself stop.

I felt like my heart was ripped in two. I thought I didn't love her. Why did I feel so bad if I didn't even love her? Oh, the humiliation. That must be it. My chest literally ached and I knew exactly what was happening.

The tight knot in your throat rises up as if you'll never breathe again and the burning in your eyes stings and finally, the sick feeling in your stomach. All these were the warning signs of crying. Like an unstoppable force, there was no way to prevent it now. Only hold it off. I couldn't cry here. Not in public , so I had to go home. Hopefully John was out.

VVVVVVVVVVVVV

John POV

I lay in bed, hoping for sleep. It was mid-afternoon but there was nothing better to do. I didn't want to be awake right now. There was no worse feeling than being love-sick for someone you had no chance with. So sleep numbed the feelings...until I began to dream.

I heard the door slam from downstairs and my name called. I didn't really want to see Sherlock right now. If I was lucky, his constant noise might lull me to sleep. I listened for him but ten minutes later, I still heard nothing.

That meant he was up to something. Damn.

Getting out of bed, I tiptoed down the stairs to catch him doing whatever he was doing before he could hear me and hide the evidence. However, when I saw him sitting on the sofa with his head in his hands, I became more scared than any experiment would have made me. To see Sherlock _crying, _of all things, was just...wrong. It didn't seem real. What happened?

My phone buzzed in my pocket and I looked at my text.

GIVE HIM HIS VIOLIN. IT CALMS HIM DOWN. –MH

THANKS. –JW

Sometimes, I wondered why Sherlock and Mycroft weren't close. Mycroft knew exactly how to make him feel better and he had saved me on multiple occasions.

Quickly, but quietly, I snuck past Sherlock and ignored his sobs to sneak into his room to grab his violin. Luckily, but sadly, he was too absorbed in crying to notice me. I stood before him and cleared my throat.

"John?"

He looked up. I was surprised to see his eyes weren't red with tears like mine got. Instead, his eyes seemed darker but still grey and they sparkled with the tears that dripped to his cheeks.

"I'm sorry you had to see me like this, John."

"Its okay, Sherlock. Everyone cries. I take it things didn't go so well with Molly. You don't have to tell me but I brought you your violin. Mycroft said it makes you feel better."

"How did he know I was upset?"

"I have no idea."

He smiled half-heartedly and it looked like it hurt him but he took the violin and began playing smooth notes across the strings. I liked the way his fingers seemed to dance as I watched them pluck at the violin; perfectly in time with the bow that was in his other hand.

He finished the song a few minutes later.

"That was beautiful. You always play better when something is troubling you, though I really hate to hear that music. It's so sad that it makes me want to sympathize with you."

"Thank you, John. I hope you never have to hear this music again. I'm more lonely than anything though. I thought I was upset because Molly broke up with me and now I just feel alone."

"It'll get better."

I put a comforting hand on his shoulder before trudging back upstairs to bed. Finally, with the help of Sherlock's legato lullaby from downstairs, I fell asleep peacefully.

VVVVVVVVVVVVVV

There you have it...the break-up. Tell me how I did please...and what would be good to see next. How long do you think I should wait before John telling Sherlock? Or maybe even Sherlock telling John...even though he doens't love him yet...

Please let me know what you think and as always, thank you everyone for reading and reviewing.


	30. Chapter 30

I'm very sorry for the long wait…

Please review…we are getting to the good stuff soon. Promise!

-Myelle

VVVVVVVVVVVVVVVV

Sherlock POV

I shouldn't be angry at Molly. She did nothing at all to make me be angry. She was sweet and charming and…pretty. I guess she just needs someone better. But it doesn't make sense! I was there for her. I cared about her. I even loved her for a while. I was much better for her than Moriarty was. There was no reason for her breaking up with me. I just don't want to move in with her.

It doesn't matter anymore, anyway. I could stay with John now and this is where my work is. That's all I really care about. All I want right now is a case. Something brutal, like a double homicide or a serial killer. I needed something to take my mind off of _her. _

Now that Molly was gone, I could clear my head. I wouldn't have to worry about being at her house on time or what to say to her for why I was late anyway. I think life is becoming much simpler. Whether that's good or bad, I'm not exactly sure. For now, however, I was perfectly content with my violin is my arms and John sleeping upstairs. This was all I needed…

VVVVVVVVVVVVVVV

John POV

It was two days before Sherlock had adjusted to 'single life.' He would always start a sentence with: " Molly told me…" or: "I wonder if Molly knows…" but then he'd clear his throat and start over.

I came into the kitchen, two days after Molly broke up with him, and he was perfectly fine again. Sherlock busied himself making tea. Two cups. I assumed one was for me, but you never know. It could have been for his experiment.

"One for me?"

"Yeah."

I was about to take a sip as he continued stirring his own sugar in. However, I saw the container he got the sugar out of. Taking a quick glance around, I saw that he had added a number of opaque, beige jars in the kitchen. They were all labelled, but all looked the exact same. Stupid idiot must have switched the jars.

He was lifting the cup to his lips.

"Stop!" I yelled. "you idiot, you're going to kill yourself. Look at the jar's label. The sugar is over there."

"It's okay John. It's just the labels. This is sugar. I put them on the wrong jars but now I know which is which." He brought his cup up once again and I took it from him. "I was going to change them later."

"Unacceptable. What if I were the one making the tea? I would have used the chemical crystal shit you have inside the jar. I could have killed you, Sherlock! Be more careful."

"Why don't you value your life, John?"

What kind of question was that? Why would he ask that?

"What?"

"Just now you said 'I could have killed you,' and earlier in the conversation you said 'you could have killed yourself.' Why aren't you worried about _you? _No one is that selfless. You seem angry at something too. Why don't you talk to me, hmm?"

Shit, shit, shit! Why was I an idiot? God, I'm so see-through. It was obvious he'd find out about my love for him eventually but I didn't think it would be this fast. I knew that he had a notion as to what was wrong with me.

He sounded like my previous psychiatrist as he analyzed my current state out loud. I tried not to imagine what was going on inside that brilliant brain of his.

VVVVVVVVVVVV

Sherlock POV

Watching John silently panic was intriguing to say the least. Maybe now I could figure out what was wrong with him. Perhaps if I ask him, he might tell me. He did a good job of hiding it but there was no doubt now that there was, indeed, something bothering him.

VVVVVVVVVVVV

Sorry for the short update…the next chapter will be longer (and better) but I don't have lots of time right now…

Please review.

-Myelle


	31. Chapter 31

Please review…by the way…**this chapter goes to XMillieX **for the brilliant idea for one of John's excuses. I never would have thought of it myself! THANKS!

-Myelle

VVVVVVVVVVVVV

John POV

Sherlock continued to stare. I could tell he was deep in thought. God only knew what he was thinking of. Actually, if God was there, I bet even _he _couldn't figure out what went on in there.

"John." He said in a questioning tone.

"Yeah?"

"What's wrong? Obviously there's something. I wasn't going to ask but I can't figure it out."

_Yes! _He hadn't figured it out yet! I had a second chance to lie. It scared me how guilty I felt but desperate times called for desperate measures.

"You're my problem. Everyday there's some stupid experiment you do and it bothers me to no end. One day you'll kill yourself and I don't want to have to drag a dead body out of the flat. You're brilliant, but you're also the stupidest man I've ever met. No one in their right mind would keep chemicals beside the sugar for their tea! In fact, if you don't stop this, I'm going to move."

He stared at me blankly instead of his pensive look he always wore. What I had said was true. I think, despite all my anxiety with him moving out for Molly, now that it wasn't going to happen, and Sherlock was here to stay, I realized that if he had moved out, it might have been better for both of us. If he wasn't around, I could probably make myself fall out of love with him.

The only question now was…did I want to?

"Why? Personally, I think we are fine here."

"Sherlock, if what I'm dealing with continues, then I'm gone. I'm sorry, but that's just how it has to be. I'm sorry to put this on you after the whole debacle with you and Molly but if I don't get out of here, I'm not going to get any better."

His face dropped.

"My experiments have made you sick, then? You must know that it was never my intention to hurt you. What experiment, exactly? I could develop a cure." he said hopefully.

"Uh…don't worry, I'll be fine." Lie.

I walked away; fully aware his eyes were following me. Well, he would figure it out soon and when he did, I didn't want to be here. Taking up my coat, I hurried out the door, grabbing the paper from in front of Mrs. Hudson's door, hopeful of finding a new flat.

VVVVVVVVVVVVVV

Sherlock POV

I think I knew what was wrong, but it was so improbable that I nearly missed it. Improbable, yes. _Impossible, _no. There was no other possibilities anymore. If John wasn't sick, which I ascertained he wasn't, then he must be in love with me. Well, maybe not love. Maybe he just _liked _me in that way…

I didn't understand why he needed to move out unless he was ashamed to love me. The only reason he would want to move is to be to not love me. Therefore, he was ashamed.

I took a moment to process this. John loved me, but didn't want to. Now, he wanted to forget me. Damn. I thought we could have been friends for a long time. Maybe not forever, but longer than this. I had no problem with him loving me, though it seems he did. I didn't want John to leave. Not yet. It was too soon. After all we had been through: the bombing, the 'fake' kidnapping, _Christmas! _John had gotten me the most beautiful violin I had ever seen and it meant a lot to me. I wasn't ready, nor was I willing, to let him leave me.

I DON'T SEE REASON FOR YOU TO MOVE – SH

I didn't actually expect him to respond but he did nonetheless, within the minute.

I THOUGHT YOU HAD ALREADY FIGURED IT OUT – JW

I DID. I STILL SEE NO REASON. COME BACK. WE WILL TALK. – SH

NOT YET. – JW

What does he mean 'not yet?' What did he possibly need to do that was more important than talking about this…whatever this was. It wasn't a problem. I would never call it a problem. I was actually, admittedly, quite flattered that I had turned a straight man gay. But now was no time to be smug. There was no reason for John to move and nothing he had to do so where the hell was he going?

I really hope Mycroft doesn't get to talk to him before I do. If Mycroft got to him, id surely never see John again for as long as I lived. For some reason, I don't think Mycroft approved of John quite yet.

WHY ARE YOU AVOIDING THIS? WE HAVE TO TALK. I WANT TO DISCUSS THIS FACE TO FACE. – SH

JOHN, ANSWER ME. – SH

DAMNIT JOHN! DON'T IGNORE ME! – SH

Fine. If he wanted to play dirty and give me the silent treatment, I'd make him feel guilty for it, the stubborn bastard. Something told me I wouldn't be proud of what I was about to do.

IF YOU DON'T TEXT BACK IM GOING TO MAKE TEA AND I CAN'T REMEMBER IF I SWEITCHED THE JARS OR NOT. – SH

IF I AM DEAD WHEN YOU GET HOME, KINDLY INFORM LESTARDE AND CREMATE ME. I DON'T WANT A BUNCH OF BUGS EATING ME AS I ROT IN THE GROUND. – SH

After twenty minutes, there was still no response. I think it was safe to say John wasn;t coming back for a while. Might as well make tea then…since I could be waiting all day. Now if only I could remember if I switched the jars…

VVVVVVVVVVVV

Please review…and trust me…you'll thoroughly enjoy the next chapter. I enjoyed writing it so much that there are about ten different versions in my room pinned to my walls. (I like to put out my writing on my walls so it's like a story board…lol)

Really though….the next chapter is going to be funny and serious at the same time…trust me. I can make it happen

-Myelle


	32. Chapter 32

Sorry for taking so long to update...please review!

-myelle

(and yes...i am aware that this is kind of like a dumb moment for Sherlock...he's very OOC for this chapter)

VVVVVVVV

Sherlock POV

I stared at the beige opaque jars on the counter top. I couldn't remember if I had switched them, but John had made me feel pretty guilty, so I must have switched them right away. Oh well...I'm sure something that looked like sugar couldn't be too harmless. Otherwise they wouldn't make it look like sugar, right?

Right, I answered myself.

The kettle sounded, signalling the water was ready. I made my tea and went to sit down on the sofa. Cautiously, I took a sip. It tasted alright...so there couldn't be much wrong with it. As I sipped, sitting peacefully, my mind began to wander to places it probably shouldn't be. Places like fantasies about John coming in the door and finding me dead. What he would do. How he would react. What he would say. Guiltily, I played scenes over and over in my mind, changing it each time, making it more and more dramatic.

I enjoyed the feeling I was getting from imagining John cradling my dead body, crying. Missing me. I wanted him to feel that way.

He would enter the room; call my name, saying he was home again. He would try to find me to apologize for leaving, even though he didn't have to. It's just what John does. When he gets no answer, he moves further into the room, hanging up his jacket on the back of the door. When he turns around, he sees me on the floor. I'm spread out, as if I've fallen. John runs to me, of course.

He cradles my head in his lap and checks my pulse, which he finds is gone, but he won't admit it. Desperately, John tries to revive me, knowing I'm long dead. But he'll never forgive himself if he doesn't at least try. As he puts his lips to mine, giving me mouth to mouth as if it would help, he begins to cry.

John isn't the kind of man to cry for anything, but he cries for me. He's scared. He knows I'm gone and he doesn't know what to do. Giving up on me, he takes my body into his arms and sobs against me. Gently, as if I would still feel it his touch, he kisses my lips.

My daydreams were rudely interrupted by my stomach which growled at me. Suddenly I didn't feel too good. _Shit. _Now that I think of it, I don't actually recall switching the labels on the jars. Fuck.

I barely made it to the loo before I vomited the harsh chemicals. They burned as they forced their way up my throat. I was glad John wasn't here to see this.

VVVVVVVVVVVVVV

John POV

I turned my phone back on about twenty minutes after turning it off to escape Sherlock. I just needed to be away from him for a bit. I honestly had no idea what I was going to do or where I was going to go, but I sure as hell wouldn't figure it out if I was around him with his constant distractions.

I looked at his texts, and thought nothing of it at first. I continued my walk. I knew he was only joking. He wasn't so stupid as to actually mix up the jars...but he _definitely _was stupid enough to actually make tea.

Ten minutes later, I turned back.

XXXXX

When I got back to the flat, I called him, saying I was home. I found him lying on the sitting room floor. My heart sped up until I saw his fingers move. I still ran to him, though. Lord, I was pathetic. He probably wasn't even hurt. This was most likely a trick to make me stay. It wasn't going to work.

"John?" he asked quietly. His voice sounded weak.

"What's wrong? Sherlock, if this is some kind of act...Just get up. If you stop now, I won't be angry."

"It hurts, John."

Just to make sure this was real, I quickly looked him over. He seemed fine. There was absolutely nothing wrong with him on the outside if it was anything it must be-

"I made the wrong tea."

"Jesus, Sherlock! You stupid arse! I knew this was going to happen. Come on, I'll help you up. You need to get this out of your system."

"I believe I've already accomplished that. I'm fairly certain I've just thrown up a week's worth of food. If the chemicals aren't gone by now, they're not leaving."

I shook my head and helped him up anyway. He stood on shaky legs as I led him to the loo. I made him kneel beside the toilet and he tried to make me leave, but I wasn't letting that happen. We both knew he'd die if he didn't get this-whatever this actually was- out of him.

"No more chemicals in the kitchen. I told you this would happen."

"What does it matter to you? You're leaving me anyways." He spat back.

I sighed.

"We'll discuss this later."

Actually, there was nothing I wanted more than to stay but it just wasn't right anymore. If I wanted to get rid of my..._love_...for him than I needed to leave. But if I left, the stupid sod would get himself killed. For now however, it didn't matter whether I left or stayed. I had to stay at least until he was better. It was true I needed to get away from him but, hell, I didn't want him dead.

VVVVVVVVVVVVV

Sherlock POV

It was embarrassing to have John here. I tried pushing him away but I was too weak and he was too persistent. At least he was a doctor and saw this type of thing often. I could keep some of my dignity this way. It made me too vulnerable to have him see this, but if he was used to it, it wasn't all bad.

John had one hand on my back, rubbing it to comfort me. I had to admit that it was actually quite soothing. My stomach ached and my throat burned. I tried hard not to let my pain show but I still clutched at my abdomen.

When it was finally over, I slumped over and rested my head on the floor. I curled up into myself because this seemed to numb the pain.

John knelt behind me. Without seeing him, I knew exactly what expression he wore. He was frowning at me. Not with disappointment, but with worry this time.

"Are you okay?" he whispered.

"No. I'm burning from the inside out. Why did you make me do that? It hurts."

"Because if you didn't, you would die."

"It shouldn't matter to you. You're leaving, remember? Either way, I'm dead to you."

"Christ, Sherlock! I don't want you to _die. _Did you intentionally drink those chemicals? Because if you're trying to guilt me into staying, I swear I'll never come back. You're an idiot."

That hurt.

"I didn't, I promise. Now help me up. I don't want to lay here are day."

John helped me to the sofa and got me a throw and a glass of water. He mentioned something about getting electrolytes or something at the shop. It didn't really matter. I was fast asleep before he even got out the door.

VVVVVVVVVVVVV

Please review...I kind of liked this chapter...tell me how you liked Sherlock's fantasy! HAHA

-myelle


	33. Chapter 33

**Dear readers:** please review. I keep getting people putting me on alert and favourite and no one actually reviewing! Please tell em what you think about my story. As always, if you want to see something, I am open to suggestions.

-myelle

VVVVVVVVVVV

John POV

Stupid sod. For the smartest man in London, he sure could be a stupid arse. What an idiot. Honestly, who _forgets _they replaces sugar with chemicals...better yet: who replaces sugar with chemicals in the first place? Sherlock-bloody-Holmes. That's who.

I went quickly to the store to grab some liquids and medicines that would help him so he could replenish his electrolytes. The poor guy had probably done serious damage to his body by throwing up so many times.

When I got back, he was fast asleep on the sofa, curled up in the throw I put on him. He looked like a such a child. A peaceful one. He looked innocent and young. Not at all like me when I slept. I was probably the most unattractive sleeper on the planet. I sprawled out all over the bed, snored, drooled. Sherlock was so...I searched for the word..._orderly_ when he slept.

I hated to wake him, but if I didn't he'd get even more sick.

"Hey." I whispered. Then I realized trying to wake someone up by whispering was actually a stupid idea. I don't know why people did it. "Sherlock!" I said louder into his ear.

He groaned in annoyance and turned over.

"You need to drink this. It'll make you better." He took the liquid from the small medicine cup I offered him, making a face at the taste of it. I knew exactly that bitter taste that he had to deal with so I handed him a tall glass of water to go with it. "In about an hour I'm going to wake you up again.. You'll need to eat then. Just light foods. But at least it's something. You won't get better on an empty stomach."

"Nonsense. I've gone days without food before."

"I know. That's probably the reason you reacted so badly. This is non-negotiable. You need to eat healthier if you want to live."

"And what if that's not what I want?"

"Shut up." I said forcefully. "Even if you don't want to live, there are people who want you to. You're taking the soup and the medicine and you're going to get better. If I have to shove it down your throat, so be it. I will if that's what it comes to. Do you understand?" I sighed. "What are you going to do when I leave? You'll kill yourself."

"I don't know. I'll manage I guess."

Now I was worried. This was bloody perfect. No doubt he would do something stupid while I was gone. I honestly don't know how he survived without me before. Not that I was _that _important, but I sure knew how to take care of him, if I did say so myself.

No. I _had _to leave or I would never be free of him. That was final. No changes.

VVVVVVVVVVVVV

Sorry the chapter is so short. Please review!


	34. Chapter 34

Hey everyone! Please review! ]

**WARNING:** THIS CHAPTER IS VERY DARK!

-Myelle

VVVVVVVVVVVVVV

I could always tell when John was at war with himself. To be honest, it was mildly amusing. If I kept this up, being sick, maybe I could guilt him into staying. I didn't care if he loved me or not. John was John and nothing could change that.

But it wasn't fair. If john wasn't happy here, he should be allowed to leave, right? For once I shouldn't be so selfish. But then again, I just wouldn't be me if I didn't get my way. My brain worked over-drive despite my recent ordeal. Quickly, I hatched up a plan that was a benefit for both me _and _John. If I pretending to love John, he would have what he wanted and I would get to keep him. I can't believe I didn't think of it before.

"John, come closer."

"What, do you need something?"

I purposefully spoke quietly so he leaned in closer to me anyways. As quickly as I could without bumping noses, I kissed John.

I liked it, actually. I didn't expect that. I also didn't expect the look of shock and guilt that crossed his face. What, was he going to blame this on himself too? Honestly, how selfless could someone be?

"I'm sorry, Sherlock."

"For what? _I _kissed _you._ I like you, John."

"Uh, look, Sherlock, as much as I appreciate this, I really think you need your sleep. You're delusional and overtired. You know that I like you more than I should and you're really not helping me fix that."

"What's to fix? I like you, and you like me. We were made for each other, John."

Oops, might have gone a bit too far on that line. Damn. Now John definitely thought I was crazy. He handed me a glass of water and told me to drink. I drank it quickly so as to carry on our conversation but when I opened my mouth to speak, John cut me off.

"Not another word. Go to sleep."

Nodding, I turned so my back was on the outside of the sofa. As John left me to my thoughts, I found that, with nothing important to occupy my mine, I was fantasizing again. This time, John was watching me as I slept...or at least he thought I was sleeping.

He holds my hand in one of his. His other hand covers me up more with the throw he lent me. This was my fantasy; I wanted to make it dramatic. This, I decided, would be the exact spot I would die in: on this sofa, my hand in John's.

"John, I want you to do something for me. We both know I'm not going to make it much longer. I don't want to die weak and broken. John, I want you to kill me."

"Euthanasia, Sherlock? Absolutely not. I can't do it."

I made John's voice shake in my mind as I heard it in my vision. He squeezes my hand in both of his now, and is prepared to beg me not to make him do this. But I know he's weak. He'll do what I ask if only I use carefully crafted words. John knows it too. He knows I can make him kill me if it's what I truly desire. But he desperately doesn't want to obey.

"Please, John. It hurts. God, everything hurts."I moaned, trying to dim my voice to a near whisper, "I want to die. I can't live through this anymore. I need to die and if you won't do it, I swear I will."

"I can't, Sherlock. I know you can make it. Just hold on a little longer. You'll get better; there's always hope."

John's tears now dripped from his eyes slowly, like tiny little crystals. Each one fell to our intertwined fingers and left a trail of fire as they slowly trickled down our hands. I knew it was guilt that made the tears burn me. I did feel bad for forcing John to kill me, but there was no other way. I wanted him to be the one who did it. Anyone else would be glad to see me go and even more thrilled that they would be the one to do it. But I wanted someone who would have trouble with it. It would mean so much more if it was John who ended my life because he didn't want it to end.

John wept ad laid his head down beside me on the sofa.

"John," I begin, making sure he's listening, "I've never wanted anything more. Please. I'm dying anyways. Make it end tonight. Right here. I know you don't want to see me in anymore pain. We'll have time to say goodbye this way. If you know when it's going to happen, we can have a proper final moment. Wouldn't you want that?"

"I do. But I love you, I can't let you die."

God, I loved those words. In my fantasy, and outside of it, in the real me, there were butterflies in my stomach. I wanted to cheer and scream because I realized that I _wanted _to hear John say he loved me. Though whether the want was just part of the fantasy or not was yet undecided.

John takes a deep breath and lets it out in a sigh. I know he's surrendering to me.

"Okay. If it will truly make you happy, I'll do it."

"Thank you. Now, go get your gun."

John gets up and gets the gun quickly. I tell him to hurry and place it on my temple but he refuses.

"What about our goodbye? You're just going to have me kill you?"

"You already know everything I want to say. I could stay forever and tell you over and over that I love you but you know I do. What more is needed?"

"Please." He whispers to me. I don't think his voice can reach anything louder than that and it shakes, but he carries on, "say it, Sherlock. Tell me you love me just one last time."

"I love you, John. More than life itself and that's why its suitable you end it. I want you to have a wonderful life after I'm gone. I love you so much that sometimes it hurts, but its worth it when you kiss me or when you look at me like no one else does. You love me and it's truly amazing how the look in your eyes says it all. But now it's time to go."

John's hands shake as he raises the revolver. Before he places it to my head, he kisses the spot he puts it on my temple. He sobs but tries to keep it in. Never in my lfie have I seen anyone so broken as John is now.

I, too, am crying as he finally pulls the trigger, looking away.

Then there is silence.

John drops to the floor, not looking back. He won't do it. He can't. I'm a body now, not a person; and John is painfully aware of that.

In a flash the gun is to his head and the trigger is pulled. I hate the way my fantastical mind imagines John dropping to the floor as if he was never even standing. As if he's not worth anything.

Well, he's worth something to _me. _Wait. What does this mean? I suppose there is only one answer. I guess my plan was short lived.

It's no longer necessary to pretend. I love John Watson-for real this time. What will Mycroft think of _this_?

VVVVVVVVVVVVV

I'm sorry for the dark chapter...I couldn't resist after having a daydream of this exact scene. I liked the way the characters were contrasted with their regular strong facades. I mean...how often does an opportunity comes up to make Sherlock cry?

Please, please, PLEASE review! This is a major chapter...Sherlock loves John at last! Tell me how you liked/disliked the way I made him realize it.


	35. Chapter 35

Today is a good day. I finished my essay that took four months to complete and now I'm finishing segment four. That's right...**SEGMENENT FOUR ENDS HERE!**

Sorry for not giving you warning before hand. To be honest, I didn't know t was going to end here until I was writing and figured it a good place to stop. The only problem is that I don't have segment five lined up. If anyone has any ideas on what I should write about, please let me know.

-Myelle

VVVVVVVVVVVV

Sherlock POV

"John!" I called.

"What? You don't have to shout, I'm right here."

How could I tell him? As John stared at me, ready for me to continue speaking, I realized I had no idea what to say.

"You're nice, John."

"Uh, thanks, Sherlock. I think."

I'm an idiot. That was probably the single most _horrible _attempt to tell someone you love them in history. How am I going to tell him? What if my recent stupidity with the chemicals had made him hate me? No, John wouldn't hate me. But it was certainly plausible that he was falling out of love with me. Now I knew why he wouldn't tell me before. All this doubt was just too much to bear. And the fear or rejection was overpowering.

But if I was anything, it certainly wasn't a coward. I was stronger than this. I could tell him. I think.

"I want to go lay down-in my bed. I hate the sofa."

"Do you need help?"

"Yeah, if you wouldn't mind..."

"It's no problem."

John wrapped his arms around my waist and my shoulders to lift me to me feet. Once I was firmly standing on the ground, he took my arm and led me to my room. My legs shook, but I don't think it's from the pain.

If it was even possible, I could feel myself loving John more and more by the minute. There must be something severely wrong with me. Probably the chemicals. Maybe I should just tell him. Straight out.

Not yet.

I lay down in my bed and John pulled the blankets up around me and tucked them beside me. I was alarmed when he turned to leave.

"Stay here."

"Excuse me?"

"I'm sorry for being so stupid earlier; just don't be mad at me. Stay. I don't need any medicine for at least an hour and I already know that the second I fall asleep, you'll go stand at the door to make sure I'm still breathing.

"You make me sound like such a creep."

"Just get in, John. It's not the first time."

"Yes, I'm aware of that."

I held up the blankets for him and he crawled into my bed.

VVVVVVVVVVV

John POV

Sherlock moved closer to me when I lay down beside him. His bed was freezing, but it didn't surprise me. He insisted his room be kept cold because of his numerous "experiments" that could be affected by room temperature.

"I like you, John."

"Um, thanks."

What on earth was he getting at? I wonder if he wants something. That was most likely exactly what was happening. Sherlock often pretended to be extra nice to me whenever he needed me to do something.

He turned and faced me, looking serious.

"John, I don't know exactly how to say this because it's you. If it were anyone else, it wouldn't be this important."

"Is something wrong?"

"Well, almost. I guess it's not wrong, but it's different. Does that make sense?"

"Not at all."

Sherlock sighed, looking frustrated with himself. He took a deep breath let it out slowly. There was a bead of sweat on his forehead. Was he actually _nervous? _Impossible.

Or not.

"I don't know how to put this, but I'll try. I uh..."

He looked away and was about to turn away. I stopped him by putting hand on his arm between us on the bed. Instead of looking at my eyes, he stared at my hand resting on his arm.

"You can say it, Sherlock, whatever it is."

"I love you."

I had to look directly into his eyes to make sure I hadn't heard it wrong. I didn't know what to say, save for the complimentary response of: "I love you too, Sherlock."

"Really? Because you don't have to if you don't want to."

"I want to."

"Well that's...good. Thank you."

Slowly, because I didn't want him to get alarmed, I pressed my lips to his.

For the first time in, well, _ever_, I had everything I could ever ask for. Who would have thought that what I truly, deeply wanted was Sherlock Holmes? And who would have thought he could be mine? I certainly hadn't. But here we go again, the gorgeous consulting detective was full of more surprises.

Like, for example, he happened to be a _fantastic _kisser.

VVVVVVVVVVVVV

**THIS CONCLUDES SEGMENT FOUR. PLEASE REVIEW! **

**The next segment should be more interesting, but I have only a few ideas. If anyone would like to share their thoughts and ideas with me, I'd be much obliged. Thank you for reading and reviewing thus far. **

**Very Sincerely Yours,**

**Myelle White**


	36. Chapter 36

**THIS BEGINS SEGMENT FIVE!**

So, as you probably already figured out, each segment is approximately 10 000 words. This one might be shorter...it's not yet definite, but there is a possibility of this part being very short. Also, sorry for taking so long to update. It was exam break and I figured it was a good time for my story to take a hiatus.

Thank you for reading and reviewing thus far, please continue reviewing. I hope you like what I've decided on for Segment Five...

Sincerely,

Myelle

VVVVVVVVVVVVV

Sherlock POV

John completes me. That should have been easy to figure out, but for reason, I still couldn't exactly wrap my mind around it. Yes, I loved him, but it was wrong because I completed him, too. That shouldn't be right. I was demanding, dangerous, and sometimes a bit cranky. How could that possibly be good for him?

Regardless of what I thought, John loved me. Let's leave it at that. Speak of the devil, John came up behind me and handed me my tea. I was staring out the window at the new neighbour. Of course, I already knew all about him from the report Mycroft emailed me, but it was still fun to make my own deductions.

"Stop staring." John scolded.

"Why? He can't see me."

"Just stop. It's not polite. Besides, if you want to learn about him so badly, why don't you just go meet him?"

"Dull." I sighed. John settled for my answer and gave up.

The next day, John caught me watching our new neighbour, whose name was Benjamin Deham, as I recently learned, as he got home from his morning jog around Regent's Park. He smiled at me knowing he was right. I wanted to meet him, but I didn't want to at the same time. I wanted to know him to solve my curiosity but if I talked to him once, I'd probably have to do it again. That might be difficult if he was boring, which he looked to be.

"Sherlock, let's just go over and meet him."

"Dull."

"Are you going to give me the same answer every time? It's rather annoying. Come on, I'm going over."

"What? No!" I ran to John to stop him from putting his coat on. "You can't go yet. Give it one more day. What if he's a bad influence?" I warned, but John laughed at me.

"Well if that's the case, than the two of you should get along just fine."

I glared at him.

"Not funny."

"Okay, I'll give you one more day. But let me go, I have to get milk anyways. Unless you want to..."

"Dull."

He sighed and kissed me goodbye.

Back to the window.

VVVVVVVVVVV

John POV

I have no idea what Sherlock's problem was with Ben. I hadn't met him, but I'd read Mycroft's "report." If Mycroft was right, which I didn't doubt, than Benjamin Deham, called Ben by his friends, was a travel writer of age 36. He came to London to settle down after quitting his job in search of a spouse with which he could start a family with.

What could possibly be Sherlock's problem? He sounded like a great person. Unless he was secretly a serial killer or something, but surely Sherlock would have noticed by now. And If Sherlock had noticed he would have warned me.

Recently, in the two months we have officially been a "couple," Sherlock has become very protective of me. Whenever we have a new case, he won't let me anywhere near the current criminal. It was sweet but very annoying. And he thinks it goes only one way, but it doesn't. I worry about him just as much as he worries about me, but I'm not going to tell him to stop working cases. It's what he loves.

I love him, so I have to respect that there is danger involved in that. I remembered the conversation we had the day after he awoke, following the debacle with the poison tea.

_"John, you know I love you, but you can't love me."_

_ "Why not? You're being stupid."_

_ My heart beat faster. No, no, no! I had just gotten what I wanted. Please, don't let him take it all away. _

_ "Criminals like Moriarty are still out there. Maybe not as severe, but you recall the day at the pool. He kidnapped you, only a few weeks after we met. We were hardly friends. If any word gets out that I love you, they'll take you, John. You know I love you, but I can't let you love me. It isn't right. You'll get killed and then I won't have a partner and I'll quit my job and go back on drugs and-"_

_ Sherlock sped up, panicking at the thought of losing me. I couldn't possibly imagine a sweeter moment._

_ "I love you. I'm not going to let anyone get to me. Okay? I promise I will be nothing but careful. If you want, no one needs to know. We don't have to date openly, but I'm not going to let you push me away."_

He had finally agreed, but deemed it unnecessary to date in secret. If we were dating at all, he wanted everyone to know.

Sherlock completes me.

VVVVVVV

Cheesy ending, yes I know...but please review. Tell me what you think is gonna happen...i had some very funny guesses from people for the last segment...HAHA

-[myelle


	37. Chapter 37

Hey everyone! Please review and tell em what you think about me adding a new character to the series...I was a bit nervous of adding my own creation to the already established characters. So...please tell me what you think about Benjamin Deham.

-Myelle

VVVVVVVVVVVVV

Sherlock POV

I watched Ben come home from his morning jog for the fifth time this week. The man was absolutely dull. There was nothing fun in routine, and _everything _about Ben was routine. Everything he did, everything he ate, everything he said was part of what he did every single day. There was not one thing that Ben did that was spontaneous or impulsive.

But John seemed to like that about him, despite not even meeting him yet. Every day, John was becoming more and more like _Ben_. It started with waking up, a kiss good morning, and breakfast. Then until lunch, John talked about Ben. "Why can't you be more like Ben?" or "Look how organized Ben is?"

"John, we should meet Ben." I suggested. I bet if John saw him in person, he wouldn't think so highly of him.

"That's what I've been telling you all week. Let's go in a couple minutes. He just got back from his jog."

"so?"

"So normal people shower after they work out."

"Right. We'll leave in ten."

Perfect. If John was exposed to the real Ben, which couldn't be as perfect as I thought, then maybe he'd agree with me. Neighbours are dull.

As soon as ten minutes was passed, I grabbed my coat and got it on as soon as possible, and led John out the door towards Ben's house. The landlady led us to his flat. I raised my hand and knocked on Ben's door, waiting for him to answer and lead us into his most-likely-messy flat.

But he didn't. He answered, but after a quick introduction, he led us into his perfectly-clean flat. _Of course._ Honestly, this man could not possibly be more perfect, I thought. But I was wrong. Again.

"Would you like a drink? Beer? A cuppa?"

"Sure, that would be great." John answered.

I looked at him. I knew that tone. I knew that smile that he wore on his face. Oh, God. I made a horrible mistake. The clean flat, the routines, the cuppa...no, no, no. Perhaps I was jumping to conclusions, but I know that tone. It was only for me. Same goes for the smile. When I see John after a dangerous case, or when I walk in the door with milk in my hands-even if I needed it for an experiment- he wears the same smile. My smile. John's going to fall in love with Ben.

VVVVVVVVVVVVV

John POV

Ben had a clean flat. _Clean. _And he jogged every morning. I wish Sherlock would go jogging with me, but he was already too skinny and he didn't exercise unless on a case. Maybe I've found myself a new jogging buddy.

"We're sorry it took o long for us to make it over. We've been busy on a case." I said.

"A case? Are you police? Or doctors?"

I looked over at Sherlock. I wasn't really sure what I was anymore. I motioned for him to explain to Ben. He stalled, but eventually began to explain slowly.

"Both. Well, John is a doctor. I'm a consulting detective. John hated his job, though. Since he was extremely useful in all my cases save for one rather troublesome kidnapping case, I invited him to become my partner. Now we're both consulting detectives."

So, that's what I was. A consulting detective. I didn't know Sherlock thought of me as one. To be completely honest, I had considered myself as some sort of assistant. I smiled at him but he didn't return the smile.

"What exactly is a consulting detective?" Ben asked. He looked completely confused. I took it upon myself to explain to him.

"Well, Sherlock invented the job. He was the first one in the world. I guess now I'm one too, though not as brilliant. Essentially, when the police need help, which is more often than you think, they call Sherlock. He solves the case and we get paid...sometimes."

"That must be so exciting. I love the adrenaline rush from those types of things. I'm a bit of an adrenaline junkie, myself."

"Really?" Sherlock asked doubtfully. I shot him a look.

"Yeah. I've had my share of adventures. I'm a travel writer so I've been all around the globe bungee jumping, cliff diving, you name it. Even though I'm Canadian, I've always felt that London was my real home. I quit my job and I'm starting over again in London."

"You're Canadian? I've never met a Canadian. I've met Americans though. I thought you were one from your accent."

"Nope. I'm Canadian. And proud of it, though I can't wait to start my life here. Being overseas is such a big change. A new adventure."

I smiled. Ben couldn't possibly get any better.

VVVVVVVVVVV

Sherlock POV

Ben couldn't possibly get any worse.

VVVVVVVVVV

Please tell me what you think of Ben Deham. Thanks for reading and reviewing so far! I'm almost at 150 reviews!


	38. Chapter 38

Sorry it took so long to update. I've been getting really sick lately and you'd think I'd have time to write with all the missed classes and work shifts but I've actually been busy. Again, I'm very sorry.

Today will have an extra long update. I've decided that after this segment we will go on hiatus. So there will be a few more chapters then a BIG ending...then I'll take a couple weeks off before segment six. HAHA! I almost wrote season six as if it were a show.

Anyways, please review. I recommend reading the last chapter over again if you forgot what happened thus far.

-Myelle

VVVVVVVVVVVVV

John POV

"I'd best be leaving now." Sherlock said as he started for the door.

"So soon?" asked Ben, who shot me a glance, obviously confused by Sherlock's sudden need to be somewhere. "You just got here. Stay a while."

"A case just came in. If I don't get there, Lestrade will literally send a search party."

I looked at him, sensing he was lying but you could never really tell. He didn't seem himself. I wondered for a quick second if it was saying this to make me leave as well. But being Sherlock, he already knew I was thinking that.

"No, it's a real case, but a simple one. I won't your assistance John. I already know who did it."

"Okay."

Sherlock nodded at Ben and shut the door behind him. Ben stared after him. Oh god, I knew that look. That was the "That man is the strangest man on Earth" look. Hopefully it wouldn't translate, as mine did, into: "That man is the strangest man on Earth.. but God is he beautiful."

"Is he a psychic?" Ben asked. "I mean, you didn't say anything and then he talked as if answering your unspoken question."

"No, but I have my suspicions about his brother. The day after I met Sherlock I was kidnapped by his brother, Mycroft, and asked to act as a spy, since I was moving in with him. I declined out of respect for Sherlock, but when I told him, he actually resented my decision."

"Really?"

I went into more detail about meeting Sherlock and Ben listened with interest. I left out the part about us being a couple. If he hadn't figured it out already, he didn't need to know. Just in case he was homophobic, it's best to keep quiet about our personal lives. Besides, this was only the first day I met him.

VVVVVVVVVVV

Sherlock POV

John is stupid. He should know not to trust people so quickly. I could already see him practically melting from Ben's words. He and Ben were already sitting down and drinking tea together. What was next? The first date?

Hell, just once I wish Mycroft would kidnap someone I wanted him to, but there was little chance of him kidnapping Ben. If anyone, it would be John again for cheating on me, which may or may not happen but I have to be cautious.

What would I feel if Ben ended up stealing John? I think it might actually kill me. No, that's being overly dramatic. If John left, I wouldn't die. Life just wouldn't be worth living. I hate the constant fear of being cast aside so some other man could take my place.

I was probably easily replaceable. Not too many people would want a man like me as their partner. It was only a matter of time, I suppose, until John realizes that.

Although I know deep down that John still loves me, and always will, I am still afraid that he will love Ben more.

I went home after walking around for a bit and John arrived home a few hours after me.

"So, how was the case?"

"There was no case."

"I guessed as much." He said, looking over at me worriedly. "Sherlock, what's wrong? And don't give me some bogus answer. Tell me honestly what's on your mind."

"Nothing, John. Really. I just don't feel very good."

"Shit, did you drink more poison?"

"What? No. Even consulting detectives feel a bit under the weather sometimes."

John sat down beside me on the couch after taking a throw form the store cupboard. He wrapped the throw over us and patted his shoulder for me to rest my head on. I had butterflies in my stomach. I would miss this feeling if he left.

In this comfortable position, I found myself growing tired and I fell asleep easily. I always did when John was around.

VVVVVVVVVVV

John POV

Sherlock lied to get away from Ben. I suppose it didn't bother me as much as it should but what was _really _bothering me was that he was still lying to me right now. He obviously wasn't sick. I almost believed it at first, but I knew him better than that.

When Sherlock finally got over his "illness" a few days later, I asked him if he wanted to try meeting Ben again. He declined, as I knew he would. Another week went by and he still wouldn't go out with us.

I had started joining Ben on his daily jogs and going out with him on errands. I enjoyed spending time with him. It was good break from Sherlock's cloud of misery that seemed to follow him around nowadays. But that doesn't mean I don't love him.

Sherlock seemed distant since Ben moved in. But he knows I love him, right? I couldn't love anyone else. It's just not possible anymore. Not after all we've been through and all the cases we've worked together.

"Sherlock, I'm going out. You can join me, if you'd like."

"You're going to see Ben, no doubt. I'd rather die. Ben is dull."

"You're such a liar. Ben is exciting and you won't admit that because you're jealous of him. Yes, I haven't been spending as much time with you as I would like to, but that's your fault. I'm trying to be nice to Ben and make him feel welcome in London."

"Wrong, you're leading him on. It's not my fault that you won't stay here with me just one day of the week. Ben would understand if you missed one morning jog, but you like it too much to miss. I love you, John. I just think that your mind is somewhere else right now."

"Well you're always invited to join us."

"See? You didn't say it back. I said I love you, and you didn't say it back. John...do you still love me?"

"Of course I do!"

"Then tell me every once in awhile so you can get better at lying."

"I'm not lying, Sherlock. You mean everything to me. What do you want to hear? I love you, okay? I love you _so _much. Now, if you're finished making me feel like a complete arse, will you join Ben and I tonight for dinner?"

"No."

Stubborn bastard.

VVVVVVVVVVV

New update coming shortly...i think you might like where this segment is going...it'll be good. Promise! Luv and hugs to everyone who reads and reviews!


	39. Chapter 39

Hey everyone! How are you all? To remind you, after this segment, I'm going on hiatus. That means there won't be any chapters for a while after the segment is complete. Also:

**THANK YOU VERY MUCH FOR HELPING ME REACH MY GOAL OF 150 REVIEWS! ** I'm very lucky to have such great readers...my new goal is 250. Think you can help me? ;) as of ten minutes ago, when I checked, I have 162.

VVVVVVVVVVVVV

John POV

Ben and I decided not to go to dinner that night. Instead we waited for a time when Sherlock would be "feeling better," though we both knew he wasn't sick. So far it's been just under a fortnight. Ben confided in me that he didn't think Sherlock liked him very much. I knew this was true but I told him he's like this to everyone. Even me. It wasn't even a lie to make him feel better.

Sherlock has become withdrawn and quiet and he won't tell me why. The conversations we have always start with me asking him to tell me what's going on. Every time he looks at me, I know he is studying me.

The worst of the symptoms: he won't kiss me. Sherlock turns his head every time I try to kiss him so all I can kiss is his cheek. There were times when I would grow suspicious of his feelings for me. If he wouldn't kiss me, he defiantly didn't love me. I knew having him was too good to be true.

"Sherlock, please tell me what's wrong."

"There's nothing wrong." He said simply.

"Then why are you avoiding me? Why won't you kiss me? You rarely even look at me and you never speak to me unless I ask you a question."

Sherlock shrugged, as if this whole thing wasn't even happening; like you could just wipe it off your shoulder and forget about it. I couldn't imagine what would happen if we broke up. I'd have to find another place to live. And get a real job.

I bent down in front of his chair and pulled his laptop slowly off his lap. He allowed it, so he must be willing to talk. I made him look at me and I tried to express how serious I was.

"I'm worried about you. If something is the matter, tell me because I can help. Is it Ben?"

"I'm fine; really. I'm just adjusting to life as a couple. It's strange for me."

"Is it me? You seemed to get used to it quickly when you were dating Molly. If you don't love me, tell me now because I love you and want to be with you, but if that's not what you want, we need to talk."

"Aren't you going out with Ben tonight?"

I guess that conversation was over. Sherlock, whether intentional or not really knew how to irritate me. He was right about one thing though, I had to go out with Ben tonight. We were supposed to go for a walk but perhaps I should leave a little earlier and we could get dinner. Sherlock clearly wasn't going to come anytime soon and Ben and I were waiting to have dinner.

I dialled Ben's number on my mobile and sat on the couch across from Sherlock. I wanted him to hear this. It was childish to make him jealous but desperate times called for desperate measures.

"Hey Ben! Sherlock isn't going to come around for a while so why don't we have dinner tonight. Just you and me. I'm buying."

I looked at Sherlock who looked away as if he were embarrassed to be caught staring at me again.

"Great! I'll meet you outside in...ten minutes?"

Ben agreed and we hung up the phone. I walked back over to where Sherlock sat, motionless.

"The invite is extended to you as well. It always is. I'm taking him to Angelo's if you want to join us. If you don't then...well, it's up to you. I don't care if you like Ben anymore. I do. You're just going to have to get used to that."

VVVVVVVVVVVVV

Sherlock POV

He was actually breaking my heart. John Watson, formerly just my roommate, currently my lover, was breaking my heart. There's some kind of saying that tells you not to date people whom you have to see every day; in case it ends bad.

John brushed his teeth and combed his hair, then left. He _groomed _himself for Ben. I suppose it might help if I would actually do something and stop giving John away, but every time I tried to talk I just couldn't. John like Ben. I didn't want to seem childish in telling them to stay apart because I was _jealous._

Maybe next time I would go, depending on how things played out tonight. Of course I would go tonight, but I wouldn't go where they could see me. I had to spy on them. I couldn't sit here at home and let the love of my life go out with someone else. Impossible.

Therefore, I made a plan of action.

I dialled Angelo's number into my phone.

"Hello?"

"Hello, Angelo. It's Sherlock. John and our new neighbour, Ben will be arriving at your restaurant soon. I want you to take him aside and question him nonchalantly. Do it as if you are concerned for me, like you're afraid he's cheating on me or something. He'll believe that."

"_Is_ he cheating?"

"Not that I know of, but I think our neighbour might have some feelings for him. I'm going to watch them from outside the restaurant. I'll make it up to you-"

"Don't you worry about it. I'll keep my eye on them for you."

"Thank you. And tell him I love him."

I hung up and grabbed my jacket in pursuit of Ben and John. I had to admit to myself that I was a little afraid of what I might find.

VVVVVVVVVVV

John POV

I led Ben to Angelo's and we were greeted warmly at the door.

"Good evening gentlemen. John, Sherlock's usual seat is cleared for you, as always. Nice to meet you-"

"Ben-"

"Nice to meet you, Ben. Take your seat, I'll hang your coats. John, can I see you for a minute though?"

I looked suspiciously at him as I followed him away from Ben.

"I don't know what this is, John, but I don't think it's very fair. Whether he shows it or not, Sherlock likes you. Hell, he doesn't just like you, he _loves_ you. Does he know about this?"

"Yeah. I invited him to come but he refused. I'm not that kind of man, Angelo. I love him. you know that."

"Then what is this?"

"Ben is our neighbour. Sherlock has been too stubborn to meet him so I invited him to dinner tonight. It's nothing, I swear my life on it. Now, I'm assuming Sherlock called you to get this out of me. You can tell him I love him and that if he would stop being so jealous of Ben, he might see that."

Angelo laughed.

"You're a good man, John. Go take your seat, I'll bring the list of options around."

VVVVVVVVVVVV

Sorry, that's all I have time for tonight. The next chapter is when things stir up a bit.


	40. Chapter 40

Thank to everyone who reviewed...it's awesome to get such warm feedback about a terrible character...well, Ben isn't THAT bad but he sure is causing trouble for Sherlock and John. More to come...

VVVVVVVVVV

John POV

Ben and I had an excellent dinner. We had only known each other a few weeks but he was already almost as close as Sherlock and I were, of course, without dating.

My talk with Angelo was a funny little interruption. I'd have to talk to Sherlock about that later. He should know I'd never go out with Ben. Especially whilst I was dating him. Ben was curious as to what Angelo needed me for. When I had gotten back to the table, he casually asked "what was that about?"

"Angelo is just...and bit protective of his friends. He wanted to know who you were."

"So you have close friends then...like Sherlock."

"Yeah. Hey, you should meet Molly. I bet you'd like her. I never thought much of her before Sherlock and her started dating but once you get to know her, she's great."

Ben nodded and agreed to get together with me and Molly sometime. He expressed his thankfulness to me for helping him around London and find friends.

"What about you? Got a special woman in your life?"

Oh God. I remember asking this on my second day with Sherlock. What were his words again? Oh right- I remember. I suppose he didn't exactly intend them to mean what I was using them for but it's a good way to "come out" to Ben.

"Women-not really my area."

"You're gay?"

"Yeah. I hope you don't mind. I should've told you sooner but it just never occurred to me."

"No worries. I'm gay too."

VVVVVVVVVVVV

Sherlock POV

Ben and John were walking out of the restaurant. I saw John put a few bank notes on the table before he left whilst Angelo wasn't looking. When he met outside, he smiled at him, _again_. Honestly, what was so great about Ben that he deserved all these smiles. John didn't smile at me once today. But then again, what was so great about me? Yes, I was almost superhuman in my brain capacity and powers of deduction, but that was about it.

Damn this self pity. John loved _me. _Right?

I watched Ben as he received Johns smile, flashing one of his own right back at him. _No, not possible. _ It seems our new neighbour liked John a little more than he should. That's okay; I don't think I have anything to worry about. John would tell me if he started to get feelings for him. It was ridiculous to think that he could when he was obviously _my _partner.

I glanced up at them again and nearly fainted.

VVVVVVVVVVV

John POV

I smiled at Ben and before I knew it, his lips were on mine. It took me by such surprise that I completely tensed up...but his kiss was so passionate that it seemed natural to kiss back. Against better judgement, I did.

It felt guilty and my lips seemed to burn. Oh my God, I was a cheater. I had kissed Ben though I loved Sherlock. I had hurt three people by simply kissing back. Oh hell, I was _still_ kissing him.

"Ben, I'm sorry, I can't do this." I said, offering a sympathetic smile.

VVVVVVVVV

Sherlock POV

Oh, God. So they _were _dating. My John dating Ben! It was wrong! My heart beat faster until I could quite literally feel it ripping apart.

The feelings coursing through me were unlike anything I've ever felt before. The intense love I felt for John mixed with the hatred I had for Ben. The betrayal that I felt intertwined with the sense of loneliness that I knew would come from John when he broke the news to me. He would obviously not want to stay in the same flat anymore.

At first, it looked like John was surprised by Ben's kiss but he kissed back. _He kissed back_. And when he pulled away, he smiled.

For the second time this year, my heart was broken. First Molly, now John. I never thought it would come to this with him. I thought we could've been together for a long time, if not forever. I was stupid. Naive. Again, for the second time this year, I cried.

VVVVVVVVVVVVVV

Our boys just can't seem to hold it together. I kind of feel guilty writing this, though I know they're fictional. (Hard to believe after becoming so acquainted with the characters. Haha) Anyways, please review and tell me what you think of this chapter. Much obliged.

-Myelle.


	41. Chapter 41

**PLEASE READ: ****I had planned on making this two chapters but:**

**SEGMENT FIVE ENDS HERE!**

**WARNING: Sherlock goes a bit crazy...sorry for the overdramatic-ness of this chapter. It was by suggestion of a friend and I kind of thought it would be a nice almost-ending for this segment. **

VVVVVVVVVVV

John POV

"Ben, I think you're a great guy but I'm in love with Sherlock. I can't hurt him like this. If he saw us, he'd be heartbroken and I really like you but I can't be...whatever this is. Can we still be friends? Is it going to be awkward?"

"Man, I'm sorry about that. I never even suspected you and Sherlock were together. You just don't act like a couple. But, if you want, yeah let's be friends."

"I want that, yes, and Sherlock and I _are_ a couple...we just haven't really been showing it lately. But we love each other and we'll stay that way for a long time. I'm sorry for kissing you back and encouraging you. I didn't want to give you the wrong idea, so I'm sorry."

"It's okay. We're good, but let's get out of the cold. I'm freezing."

Well, that was easy, I thought as I walked home towards Baker Street.

VVVVVVVVVVV

Sherlock POV

I ran home, eager to get away from John and his new _lover_. I hate Ben. I love John. What's wrong with me? My intense flow of emotions was too much to handle for one man and as I ran, I felt tears burn down my cheeks faster than before as I reached the conclusion of what must happen. Perhaps I was being overdramatic, but it was obvious John was going to leave me and the minute he did, I was going to die. Moriarty was right...the heart was going to be burned out of me.

It might have actually been good if Ben had been working for Moriarty because then I'd have a reason to tell John not to be with him. Now there was no excuse not to love Ben, and he was leaving.

But I could fix that. He couldn't leave me if I was already gone. Though, it was more than plausible that Mycroft would find me, however, no one could find me if I was dead.

I could end it right now. Step into traffic, cut my wrists, gun to the head...probably the latter of the three. Yes, of course! That was the more plausible option because I could be finished when John got home.

As I opened my door to our Baker Street flat, I began thinking of what to write John in a note because I'd have to write _something_. Even if he didn't love me, he still cared for me and I couldn't hurt him by forgetting to leave a note.

I rushed to John's room to grab his gun, since he had confiscated mine, and began writing the letter.

VVVVVVVVVVV

John POV

I got home to the most horrifying sight I'd ever seen. My heart skipped a beat and my breath hitched as I read over Sherlock's shoulder. He hadn't noticed me come in so I snuck up on him and began reading but when I saw what, exactly, he was writing, I felt betrayed and just sick.

"Sherlock? Is that what I think it is?"I asked, snatching the note from under his pen.

"John! Don't read that, it's not for you."

"It says my name right at the top. Sherlock, give me the gun."

"No."

"SHERLOCK, GIVE ME THE _FUCKING_ GUN!" I yelled. I don't think he really understood how serious this situation was.

He finally handed it over and I already felt a small bit relieved. But that didn't stop the overwhelming fear at what almost happened- what still could if I didn't watch him from now on.

"Sherlock..." I whispered but couldn't speak after that. His tear soaked face made it hard from me to keep my own back but I held out. Instead of speaking, I chose to read the letter.

It read:

_Dear John,_

_ I love you but you broke my heart. There's only so much a man can bear before he breaks. I hope you have a long, happy life. I really do John. Goodbye,_

_ Love-_

I had stopped him before he could write his name. I stared at him and began angrily ripping the note and throwing it on the floor at his feet.

"Sherlock, what do you mean that I broke your heart?"

"I saw you kiss Ben, John. I saw you smile when you broke away too. If you're in love with someone else, it might have been kind to tell me so I wouldn't have to kill myself to get away from you."

"You don't have to. I'm not going to let you hurt yourself. I see I've done enough of that already but you have to believe me. That wasn't a real kiss. Well, yes, it was but he kissed me and I know I kissed back but I stopped him! I told him I was in love with _you_ and I told Angelo the same thing when he pulled me aside tonight, which I know was your doing. You have to stop being so paranoid and believe that I love you. You're being over dramatic and unnecessary."

"There's no life if you don't love me so, no. I am _not _being overdramatic."

"Well I love you!" I tried walking closer to him but he backed away. I felt my tears spill over, finally, as I watched him look at me with disgust. "Please. Let me hold you. I can't stand seeing you this way, Sherlock. Thinking about what could have happened is killing me. Look at me! I'm a mess!"

Sherlock took a long look at me and saw how serious I was. He stood beside me and finally wrapped his long arms around me.

I followed suit and held him tightly, crying into his chest. This was the most intimate moment we had as a couple: holding each other as we both cried.

"John, I'm so sorry."

"Don't ever do that to me again. I would never break your heart, Sherlock. I'm so sorry for kissing Ben but it will never happen again. I promise."

His voice cracked and I could hear him crying again as he spoke. I think his tears were more of relief than anything. He leaned his head down to mine and locked our lips together. I had thought Ben's kiss to be passionate but nothing compares to a kiss with the person you're supposed to be with.

Sherlock and I were supposed to be together.

"John, I promise you you'll never be scared like that again."

"I promise you you'll never have _reason_ to scare me again. I promise I'll never kiss another man and I promise to never speak to Ben again if that's what makes you happy. I'll do anything for you. This is starting to sound more like wedding vows than an apology, but I'm sorry and I love you."

I kissed him again, but Sherlock's mind was elsewhere. I looked up at him and asked what he was thinking but he stayed quiet.

"Sherlock?"

"John, wedding vows don't sound like such a bad idea. I know that there's no one I'd rather be with than you and if I'm correct you think the same about me."

"Of course I want to be with you."

"Then let's get married, John. That's what people do when they're in love and I know it's early in the relationship but...you're _the one_. John,"

Sherlock, traditionally, got down on one knee before me and held my hand.

"...will you marry me?"

"Yes."

**VVVVVVVVVVVV**

**THUS ENDING SEGMENT FIVE!**

**thank you to everyone who has read and reviewed thus far...please review this chapter and tell me what you think because you won't have another chance until a month from now when I restart my story. I've warned you about the hiatus...and now it is in effect. I need a break. (not kidding...ive been writing so much lately that my wrist is beginning to mess up) so I don't really have a choice. **

**THANK YOU ONCE AGAIN AND ****PLEASE REVIEW!**


	42. Chapter 42

**Hello everyone! Well, after almost a whole month, I'm finally back. It nearly killed me because I really like this segment and I couldn't wait to share it! It's mostly fluff and useless information but it'll be cute. I promise. If you don't remember, the last chapter ended with the proposal. **

**-Myelle**

**THIS BEGINS SEGMENT SIX!**

VVVVVVVVVVVVVVV

John POV

Sherlock surprised me by going out the day after he proposed and bought rings. For three months I've stared at the rings, waiting for the day when we would finally wear them. We had agreed not to put them on until we were officially married.

Most of our time was spent on wedding plans: where the ceremony should be, where to go on the honeymoon, who to invite...and the rest of our time, of course, was spent on cases. Any time we had left over was used for figuring out how to tell our friends and family that we were getting married. We hadn't told anyone yet, although Mycroft found out his own way, and it was frightening to think that they might not like the idea.

Sherlock and I decided a few weeks ago that if one of our family members or our closest friends was opposed, then we would have to call it off. We would still be together, after all, but if someone we love didn't like the idea, then it was only right to honour their wishes.

Although I am willing to call it off for someone important like one of our immediate family members, I wasn't willing to_ not_ marry the man of dreams for someone trivial like Anderson or Sally, or even Ben who still resided next door.

Hopefully everyone would be fine with it. The only person I'm actually worried about is Sherlock's mother. Although I never met her, I somehow think she isn't going to like me very much. I'm not rich like them, and I'm hardly handsome to anyone save for Sherlock. I'm afraid that she won't see whatever Sherlock somehow see's in me.

My parents, of course, will be fine with it. They obviously aren't homophobic because they already have a gay daughter. It might be difficult for mum at first because she doesn't even know I'm gay, but I think she'll absolutely love Sherlock.

Then there were people like Mrs. Hudson and Lestrade who had to deal with us on a daily basis. I don't think they'll have anything but good wishes for us, but if they did, Sherlock and I agreed that we would do everything they can to change their minds before ultimately letting go of our wedding.

Although I had agreed with Sherlock on these terms, I wish every minute of every day that it won't come to that. I love Sherlock and want nothing more than for him to really be mine, though he claims he always will be. And when he says this, my heart flutters.

VVVVVVVVVVV

Sherlock POV

My life could not possibly get any better. John was in love with me and I was very much in love with him. To prove this, we were getting married. Of course we didn't need to prove anything, but we feel it would make our relationship stronger. Nothing could be more exciting.

I still couldn't believe he said 'yes.' I'll never forget the day it happened.

_"...will you marry me?"_

_ "Yes."_

Who would've thought that one word could complete me? The next day, I went out and bought rings for us to wear but we won't put them on until we are officially married.

The incident with Ben had shaken John up a bit...well, a lot, and he made me take therapy sessions to "cure" my bad feelings. They were absolutely ridiculous and unnecessary but I completed them for him.

_"Sherlock, I only have one condition. If you don't do this, I'll leave you. I swear it."_

_ "What is it?"_

_ "You have to go to some kind of therapy. If you came that close to killing yourself over something that small then you need help." _

_ I was reluctant to agree, seeing as it most definitely wasn't something small that made me want to die. If I had actually lost John to Ben that night, I would have gone mad. Being dead was better than being mad any day, in my opinion of course. John, however, didn't see it that way._

_ "Fine"_

_ "Thank you."_

I completed four weeks of sessions which proved to Mycroft, who had found out of course, that I truly did love John; that I wasn't kidding myself or getting in too deep, as he surely would have tried to convince me had I not gone through therapy for him.

I was afraid of what mummy would think. She didn't even know I was dating anyone, or that I was gay. I think she might be angry at me for not telling her. It wasn't my fault though. Loving a man is almost the same as loving a woman and I never told her about Molly. Besides, how angry could she actually be? Love is love, no matter what gender.

VVVVVVVVVVVVV

**Thank you everyone who is still reading after such a long break. And thank you to all the reviewers and private messengers who wished me to feels better. I do feel much better now. I still have carpal tunnel though it is much more manageable now. I stopped writing for much too long and now it's good to be back! Hopefully you feel the same **

**Please review this chapter and let me know if you have any suggestions or little things you'd like to see them do. In this segment and the next one, I've got lots of room for alterations to the plot line.**

**Sincerely, **

**Myelle**


	43. Chapter 43

**Wow, thanks for all the great feedback so far pertaining to my return! You guys make me smile! **

**-Myelle**

**P.S.- im totaly aware that Sherlock's birthday is in January, well, ought to be anyways...but even though its may in the story, just go with it **

VVVVVVVVVVVVV

John POV

"Sherlock, we kind of need to tell people we're getting married _before_ we send the invites. If we send the invites before we tell them, they'll think you're just doing this to bother me."

"Does getting married agitate you, John? Don't become one of those _bride-zillas _we see on the tellie."

I shook my head and told him to put away the address book. He had actually planned on sending out the invitations this week...I changed the subject, slightly.

"We have to tell them all at once. I was thinking at your birthday party, we could gather them all around and tell them straight. That way, we can all talk about it and there are no 'secret' meetings and no one feels left out for having not been told first."

"Sure, but about that. Molly asked if she could bring her boyfriend."

"She's dating again? Sure he can come, it's your birthday so you can call the shots."

"Good, because I told her to bring him."

I was going to ask he even bothered to ask in the first place if he had already invited him, but left it alone. I shook my head at him and smiled. He laughed in spite of himself and put away the address book. When he came back, he took his seat beside me on the settee and we watched the tellie. Of course, we only lasted roughly ten minutes before he turned to me and spoke again.

"What if they don't like the idea?"

This question had haunted me for the last three months. I tried to tell Sherlock that it would be okay but the answer we dreaded was buried into my thoughts as well. I couldn't shake off the idea that I might _not _get to marry him. If it was someone from my side I swear I'd never forgive them. I would make sure they knew that they were the reason for my unhappiness.

"It'll be fine, Sherlock. I promise. Why are you so worried?"

"Because if one person doesn't like the idea of us together then I won't get to marry you...and I _really _want to."

"That's sweet of you, but if we don't get married, we'll still be here. It would be nice to have everyone our side but you know how guilty we'd feel if someone was opposed to us and we got married anyways."

"Actually John, _you'd _feel guilty. I'd be the happiest man in the world because I married the _best_ man in the world."

He was being too nice today. Agreeing with everything I said, the extra compliments, it was all a plot.

"What do you want?"

"Let's elope."

"Sherlock, we're not eighteen. We are getting married in London with our friends and family to support us."

"Okay but if anyone disagrees, we're eloping."

I gave up and walked into the kitchen to make tea. I hated how nervous he was. Sherlock seemed to be right about everything and he never got nervous unless there was reason to be. I'm sure my family would be fine.

But God only knew how Mrs. Holmes would react. If her sons all but used the city as a playground then imagine where they learned that from? I think I was more nervous about meeting Sherlock's mother than going to Afghanistan.

VVVVVVVVVVVV

**Sorry this is rather short...my wrist hurts but I will continue the chapter as early as I can..PROMISE!**

**Please review! (im almost at 200!)**


	44. Chapter 44

**Sorry for taking forever!**

**I have a new wrist brace and it's rather trying.**

**-Myelle**

**P.S.- I somehow started to imagine Mrs. Holmes as Anna Chancellor...so that's why I chose that name. Don't ask me why I imagined her that way. It only started yesterday. I think she actually played Benedict Cumberbatch's mother in Fortysomething, but I can't remember. It's been about three years since I last watched that show.**

VVVVVVVVVVVVV

Sherlock POV

It was the night of my birthday and I couldn't be more nervous. My mother was the one we were most worried about so John proposed we invite her early to tell her. If she didn't agree, we wouldn't bother telling anyone at all until we had sorted things out. I'm sure I can persuade my mother to love John too. Mycroft had already given us his blessing-not that I wanted or needed it.

I had begun to make back-up plans in my head. I'd rather get married with the support of my family, and his, of course, but if they didn't, I fully intended to elope with John. Although I'm almost sure John thinks I'm joking around.

If mummy was opposed, I would leave. If Mrs. Hudson (since she has to live with us) opposed to us married we would simply move.

"John, we have to make my mother love you."

"Well you know her better than I do. How am I supposed to do that?" he asked. John was clearly flustered with my determination. I can imagine why since the past few days had been spent examining him and picking out the aspects of him that mummy wouldn't care for.

"I don't know. You're already perfect but..." I thought for a minute, going over everything mummy taught me when I was a boy. "Keep straight posture, which you already do because you're a soldier. I don't really know. Just act formal, I guess. There's not much to improve on."

He scoffed at me.

"That's not what you said yesterday when you picked out every single thing that was wrong with me-out loud-might I remind you."

"Yeah sorry about that."

I stared down at my feet, a little afraid to look John in the eye. To be honest, I didn't want to even have this party. It was absolutely nerve-wracking. I bet half the people coming didn't even know John and I were gay and in a relationship.

"Are you okay?" he asked me.

"Yeah, just nervous."

"You? Nervous? Please."

"Really. This is a big deal for me. I never thought I'd fall in love, never mind actually get married. And to be the one to propose is even weirder. And you're a man. I'm doing everything I'm not supposed to."

"There's something wrong with me being a guy?"

"You know what I mean."

A familiar knock on the door told us Mrs. Hudson was outside, most likely escorting my mother up to our flat. My nerves spiked and my stomach dropped in worry. If I had known her better I might have an idea of what she was going to say but I hadn't seen her in a few years and now I had no clue what she would think.

VVVVVVVVVVV

John POV

When we heard the knock on the door, Sherlock and I glanced at each other worryingly before Sherlock quickly opened the door to greet Mrs. Hudson and his mother.

I could see that, if Sherlock took after his father musically, he defiantly took after his mother in looks. Mrs. Holmes was a tall, attractive woman with short gray-black hair and fierce grey eyes which were identical to Sherlock's. She glanced at me before kissing Sherlock on the cheek and hugging him tightly. Mrs. Hudson made her way back downstairs to give the two time to 'catch up'.

"Why don't you ever call me?" she asked sternly, but lovingly. Her long lashes brushed her cheeks as she closed her eyes and held Sherlock tighter. Sherlock, who had stood still until now wrapped his long arms around her and kissed her cheek.

"Sorry, mummy. I've been a bit busy."

"Nonsense. I suppose it doesn't matter anymore but don't do it again. I miss you boys too much, sitting at home all alone. Now, why don't you introduce me to your fiancée here?"

_What?_ How did she _possibly _know that we were getting married? If Sherlock had already told her and left me in this anxious mess of agony all this time I swear I'd kill him. However, upon looking at his horrified and somewhat shocked face, I could see that he was just as surprised as I was.

"How did you know Sherlock and I were getting married?"

"Well Sherlock had to get his brains from _somewhere, _my dear. You show every sign of a man in love, but if you're in love why do you live here and not with your girlfriend or boyfriend? And before you ask, it's plain to see you live here because you are in socked feet and not with shoes on. Since I was asked to arrive early, unless you had something important to ask me, you wouldn't be here. Also, your hair is still damp from the shower you took about a half hour ago. There are probably about twenty more things I could tell you but I'll stop for now."

"Mother, this is John. I love him very much and you're absolutely right. We brought you here to ask you something. We would like your blessing on our marriage."

"You don't have to ask me, darling. Of course can marry whomever you please."

"Thank you so much, Mrs. Holmes."

"Please, John, call me Anna."

"Thank you, _Anna_." I corrected. I could not be happier. Unfortunately though, I soon learned where Sherlock's sense of curiously came from as well.

"I just have one question."

"Anything." I assured her, warmly.

"Afghanistan or Iraq?"

Sherlock and I could barely contain our laughter.

VVVVVVVVVVVVV

**Please review! I have a VERY exciting chapter coming up next that I'm sure you all be very opinionated about. You'll like it though. I think.**

**I'm four reviews away from 200! Thank you to everyone who reviewed thus far and for the person who is my 200****th**** review...I'll let you decide the direction of the story, as I've written two very different stories continuing off of this chapter and it really doesn't matter which way it goes from here to me. One is happier one is sadder. But the 200****th**** reviewer gets to decide!**

**Unless of course it's anonymous, in which case it goes to the person who reviews after them.**

**Have a good day everyone...ive gotta go to work now! UGH!**

**-myelle**


	45. Chapter 45

**Hey everyone! As promised, the person who gave the 200****th**** review got to choose the path the story took. Either way, it'll be happy-ish. Hopefully you agree with me and my reviewer's decision, but as always, suggestions are welcome. **

**-Myelle**

VVVVVVVVVVV

John POV

Anna was delightful. I loved her already, and, as she made quite clear, she loved me too. She gushed about having another son in her family and I felt completely welcome.

Sherlock kissed his mother on the cheek after she gave me a quick hug and kissed _me_ after kissing _her_. The party seemed so much less stressful now that we had our biggest obstacle out of the way.

Next to arrive was Mycroft, who congratulated us on "mummy's acceptance." I smiled widely at him and Sherlock, who seemed to notice my easiness, calmed down as well.

Once everyone had arrived and had a few drinks, we invited them all to take a seat in the sitting room.

"What's going on?" Lestrade asked, taking a seat next to Mrs. Hudson, whom he hadn't been able to get away from yet.

"Sherlock and I have some news, if you'll all listen for a moment. It has to be given out properly to everyone care about."

"Hence Anderson's absence."

I nudged his side. Lestrade laughed at him, despite obviously waiting to chastise him later about being kind to coworkers. Sherlock probably has that speech memorized.

"I've asked John to marry me. We would like to take everyone's opinions into account before going through with it. Though, if I could just say that we love each other very much but it you absolutely despise the idea, please tell us."

The room burst into applause as my cheeks turned bright red. Lestrade clapped me on the shoulder, Molly winked at me, and Harry, who came despite her protestations earlier in the week, smiled and clapped everyone.

It didn't take long for everyone to calm down, at which point Sherlock said: "So I guess no one is opposed."

"I am." I heard from a familiar voice in the back of the room. Sherlock and I might as well pack our bags now for there was absolutely no way we were going to change this person's mind.

VVVVVVVVVVV

I apologize for the short chapter. I have to go do some history research (falls asleep) My history topic is "The Positive Effects of the British Industrial Revolution on Agriculture." BORING! Even the title makes me sleepy.

Oh well...hey but if anyone has an idea on something that happened in history that I could change my topic to, let me know!

As always, reviews are greatly appreciated!

-Myelle


	46. Chapter 46

**My sincerest apologies to everyone waiting. I didn't know how long it would take my wrist to heal but its almost good now. I shouldn't be typing but I figured you guys have waited long enough...i know I have. Thank you to everyone to wished me well. Your comments always make my day **

**Sincerely yours, **

**Myelle**

VVVVVVVVVVVVVV

John POV

My mother stepped out from behind Harry and glared at me.

"You're not getting married, John." She said forcefully. My own mother-crushing my happiness. I could feel my future literally slipping away with each word that came out of her mouth.

"Might I ask why, Mrs. Watson?" Sherlock asked. The rest of the people in the room nodded at his question and awaited my mother's answer.

"I don't even know who you are, or what you do. We've just met for a brief few minutes at this party. I didn't even know John was gay. He doesn't know what he's doing. It's been so long since he's had a real friend, Mr. Holmes, that he probably mistook your friendship for love. Aside from that, you're not even his type."

"Not my type, mother? I couldn't possibly love him more. It's true that Sherlock is my best friend but he's much more than that. I apologize for not telling you earlier and this must come as a shock to you but I love him and we've agreed to postpone, or even go so far as to cancel, our wedding if someone was opposed to the idea. I do love him, mother, and I know that he loves me too. Are you still opposed?"

"Yes."

I had thought that I could change her mind by reinforcing the fact that we were very much in love, but that didn't seem to work. I had never before seen my mother so cold hearted, but worst of all, I had never seen her so set on one course. It appeared as if Sherlock and I getting married was going to be a failed dream.

"What can we do to make you accept our plans?" Sherlock asked, in his polite voice, as I liked to call it. He spoke softer than normal and a bit lower. For some reason this voice made criminals, Scotland Yard constables, and family members of victims more cooperative.

"Find a woman for John. Then I'll maybe accept the fact that you are living together. The war messed you up, John. You don't love him and you know it. You tricked yourself into loving him. So long as I'm alive, you will not marry this man."

The room quieted and there were a few gasps and mumbling sentences shared between guests. My mother stormed out of our flat, Harry and my father following close behind. Before they left, both of them turned and smiled at me.

Lestrade was the first to speak when after the door had shut.

"Well, John, with respect to your mum, I do believe she's wrong. I've seen you ready and willing to give your life for Sherlock on many occasions and if that isn't love, then love doesn't exist."

"Thanks. That goes to everyone else too. It's great to have caring friends. Especially you, Mrs. Holmes. I was worried of what you would say since I had never met you before tonight but was immensely relieved when you said you support us."

"Of course I do, dear. You're mother will come around, you'll see. If my guess is correct, and it usually is-" I saw Lestrade glance at Sherlock then his mother as she said this. I knew what he was thinking- Sherlock definitely got his 'powers of deduction' from his mother. "-then I believe that she is more upset at being so far away from you than she is about the wedding. Like she said, she didn't even know you were gay yet."

"I hope you're right."

There were words of encouragement coming from each person in the room. Molly, being unusually loud tonight, called for everyone's attention.

"This is now technically an engagement party. As is tradition, the guests get to ask the couple to kiss whenever we like and you two have to obey. So let's see a kiss."

Sherlock glanced at me with a smile, although it wasn't hard to see that his smile was masking his worry. I would know-I wore a mirrored expression. Putting our negative emotions aside, we gave the crowd what we all wanted.

VVVVVVVVVVVV

**Again, I'm very sorry for the delay. Next chapter should be up soon. Thanks to all who are reading and reviewing. Your comments are always appreciated. **

**-Myelle**


	47. Chapter 47

**Dear readers: Thank you again for reading and reviewing! I seriously LOVE your reviews. If you too are an author, you know what I mean when I say I seriously, genuinely, crave your reviews! Love to all!**

**-Myelle**

**Warning: sexual relations conspicuously implied.**

VVVVVVVVVVVVV

Sherlock POV

The party was fun besides the obvious setbacks. I enjoyed everyone's company and especially enjoyed their congratulations. Being congratulat3ed on something means I did something right and someone actually agrees with me. It's a wonderful feeling.

I tried to reassure John that I would fix our problem but the truth is that both of us knew it was an impossible feat. If not impossible, certainly near it. I had no idea where to start to convince John's mother. He offered to go instead but I wanted to do it. I wanted to be the one to convince her.

His mother obviously hated me so I suppose my first step is to make her at least neutral in her opinions of me. That, however, may be harder than I think. I know her name is Julia and that she is John's mother. That is about it. Of course, upon seeing her when I'm not so preoccupied with worry of John and I's future together, I can perhaps learn more.

John and I now sat on the sofa, the party having ended nearly three hours ago. It was late and we had just finished cleaning and straightening out, all the while talking about what had happened with his mother. I wouldn't let the topic go forever, but I could see John was getting tired of talking about it.

"Why don't we change the subject now." I suggested in his interest.

"Thanks. I have an idea of what to talk about anyways." He said slyly, like he had some big secret. John rested his feet on my lap and laid down on the other end of the sofa. I liked when we sat like this. There was something very intimate about keeping your lover's feet on your lap...

I rested a hand on his ankle and raised an eyebrow for him to go on.

"It's cute when you do that."

"Come on, just tell me what your 'topic' is."

"Well, since it's your birthday, I got you a gift but I want you to guess what it is?"

I thought about it for a minute, flattered that he got me a gift. I knew he would, despite my protests for him not to, but it still made me get butterflies in my stomach to know he went against my wishes in my best interest. Again, something that should put you off, like feet or in this case, someone disobeying you, is completely attractive if it's someone you love.

"You got me a gift _after _I told you not to?"

"Of course I got you a gift, and you're not my guardian. I can get you a gift whenever I so choose. Now guess what it is."

"Should we perhaps move to the bedroom?"

John laughed and shook his head at me. Taking my hand, he pulled me along and instructed me to follow him. He led me to a pantry where we held our brooms. I had never actually been inside this pantry before. Not that I never clean, it's just that I didn't sweep...or mop.

"Close your eyes."

I obeyed and awaited my gift. Perhaps it was my skull back, or a new coat, or John naked. I must say my hopes remained on the latter of the three.

"Open them."

I opened my eyes and saw, placed in boxes at my feet, clear glass chemistry equipment. There were even my favourite chemicals and poisons arranged neatly in a box.

"This is a gift to you but also to me. Your other equipment was too old and therefore dangerous. This will keep you safe for me but will allow you to do everything your old set did, and more. Hopefully the new chemicals, which are already labelled, will finally persuade you to dispose of some of the older, unstable ones."

"This is completely unexpected. You're brilliant! You even bought my favourite poison!"

"Yes, just please be careful with them. I bought you the new set so you could be safer. Since I can't stop you from your risky experiments, I can at least supply you with the proper safety gear. You'll notice there are safety goggles in there too. If I catch you doing an experiment without those and without a pair of gloves, there'll be hell to pay."

"Understood." I said. Taking another glance at my new chemistry gear, I said "I'm the luckiest man in the world, you know."

John led me to the bedroom before I had even gotten the full sentence out.

VVVVVVVVVVVVVV

Please review!


	48. Chapter 48

**PLEASE READ: Due to the condition of my wrist, this story will have to end soon. I am not allowed to type at all but I do anyways, which only makes it worse. I will write and post other stories but this one is too much work. (seriously, if you saw all the drafts, you would be appalled)This will be the last segment.**

**Please review and tell me if you would like to see anything in the ending. I am expecting two more chapters (to bring it to an even fifty...maybe fifty five though). This is your last chance to get to see what you want. **

**We had a good run but all good things must come to an end and I very much enjoyed writing this story and hearing all your reviews. Please keep them coming. **

**-myelle**

VVVVVVVVVVVVVVV

Sherlock POV

Despite my new chemistry set and John keeping me *ahem* busy, I still couldn't shake the feeling of disappointment I had that John's mother didn't like me. I had an overwhelming urge to fix the problem right away even only a week after the party. John and I had agreed we would give her two weeks and if nothing happens, we would talk to her. Well nothing has happened yet and its killing me. I couldn't imagine living through another week.

I saw nothing in breaking our agreement if it was in the best interest of our relationship, but I would feel guilty. I decided the first time I felt guilt that the feeling was rubbish and unnecessary but that didn't stop it from sneaking up on me.

I walked into the kitchen where John was making dinner.

"John, stop for a minute."

He turned to me and nodded for me to go on.

"Remember our agreement? That we wouldn't talk to your mother? I think it's time to pay her a visit. If not, we have to start making plans. I would like to marry you but of course without permission we would feel guilty which isn't desired and-"

"Stop. I've been thinking too. I thought about the same thing but not the same conlusion. Unfortunately, I think we should call off or at least postpone the wedding. I do love you but maybe my mother is right."

"I disagree. I'm perfect for you. I can prove it if you need me to-"

"Stop."

"You really must stop this interrupting, John."

"You're such a pain in the ass."

"well why don't you want to marry me?"

"Because I'm not ready!" John shouted, clearly getting caught up in the moment and losing his temper. Despite my awareness that he was just angry for now, his words still hurt.

"Very well then." I muttered awkwardly, trying to make an excuse to get out of the room. My mind came up empty, a first, and I stormed out like an angry teenager. I couldn't believe I had done it. I actually slammed the door.

That means only one thing:

John and I just had a fight. A _fight._ We were supposedly perfect together but perfection doesn't fight and it definitely does not slam doors.

_What am I going to do? Why doesn't he want to marry me? He still loves me at least. Not everyone who loves each other gets married. Do they? Well it certainly means they love each other...do I need proof?_

I kept on walking, hoping an answer would come to him.

VVVVVVVVVVV

**I was going to write soooo much more but I don't have time...hopefully many of you are still reading after my long intermission/hiatus**

**I guess most of you are since there are tons of subscriptions. Which, by the way is AWESOME! I officially have 107 subscriptions to this story alone.**

**THANK YOU ALL!**

**-Myelle.**


	49. Chapter 49

**This is the second last chapter. Just to let you know, today marks the six month point of the story. I started it on 15 October, 2010. That's six months ago today. **

**Please review, and remember that this is YOUR LAST CHANCE TO REQUEST SOMETHING! If you want to see anything, last chapter is the next one which will be posted on 20 May, 2011.**

**-Myelle**

**P.S.-I don't know why I named John's mum the way I did...kinda just fit. **

VVVVVVVVVVVVV

Sherlock POV

I knew John would hate me for this, but I stole his address book on the way out, hoping his mothers would be in there. Luckily it was. I hailed a cab as she lived on the outskirts of London.

When I arrived nearly twenty minutes later, I paid my overpriced cab fare and knocked on the door. Surely John wouldn't be getting cold feet if he knew we were allowed to get married and I was determined to convince his mother of just that. I would not leave today without her approval.

Mrs. Watson answered the door and smiled. _Smiled. _

"May I talk to you, Mrs. Watson?"

"Come on in, Mr. Holmes. And call me Julia."

"Then to you I am Sherlock."

I smiled at her and she invited me in. This may be easier than I thought it was originally going to be at the rate its progressing now.

I was directed to take a seat on the couch across from her. There were windows everywhere in the house. Clearly she liked her fresh air as _all _of them were wide open. The cool breezes seemed to calm me as they hit the back of my neck.

She smiled again.

"I think you might already know why I've come here."

"I know why you're here. I know that John and you are in love. There is no need to tell me that because he has made it very clear. We've been arguing every night this week on the phone and this morning I've finally come to my senses. I don't know why I didn't see it before, Sherlock."

"He's been talking to you? Just this afternoon he told me he wasn't ready yet."

She looked down after seeing how hurt my expression was. I tried desperately not to let it show to no purpose. Julia clearly saw my pain.

"I'm sorry for that. Yesterday evening we had a rather long conversation, while you were asleep apparently, and John confided in me that what he was worried about most was telling you and seeing your disappointment. He said that if I wasn't going to let him marry you, then I at least had to tell him how to tell you. I suggested letting you down easy by saying he wasn't ready yet anyways. I guess he did that."

So we didn't get in a fight. God, I felt awful for walking out on him now. He was probably at home freaking out over what to do. John always did that type of thing when something went wrong. At least I could go home with good news.

I breathed for seemingly the first time all week.

"I am..."I searched for a word... "_overjoyed_ by your words, Julia. I can't thank you enough. But I have to ask, what made you change your mind?"

"I'm sure you've seen John cry before, right?"

"Well, yes. Rarely, but yes, I've seen it."

"I haven't until I heard him crying last night on the phone. When he was a baby that was different but now that he is a man he's cold towards me. I couldn't stand being the one who made him cry. My own son opens up to me but I'm the one who made him feel that way. Will you ever make him feel the way I did, Sherlock?"

"Never."

"Then welcome to our family, my boy."

To my surprise and discomfort, Julia walked towards me a hugged me. I felt awkward at first but when she wrapped her arms around me, I felt like I was hugging my own mother. Maybe it was a the rush of positive emotions making me strange but I knew at the moment that John and I would be happy for the rest of our lives.

VVVVVVVVVVV

John POV

"John! John, I have news!" Sherlock shouted as he rushed up the stairs to our flat.

I heard him downstairs looking for me but I knew he wouldn't find me yet. I had gone up to my old room to think for a while. If this didn't convince him I didn't want him then nothing would. Well, I _did _want him but I wanted him to think I didn't. I couldn't bear to imagine his expression if I told him I wasn't able to marry him.

Why did we make those rules anyways? Whose idea was it to respect our families' decisions? That was the stupidest agreement Sherlock and I ever made.

I sighed as he barged in my door.

"Why are you up here?"

"Isn't it obvious? We aren't getting married so I don't see the point in dating. I'm moving up here for now until I can find another flat."

"Good God, were you really going to move? John, you're brilliant and you know it, but sometimes you make the stupidest decisions. I'm not letting you go anywhere."

"I have to, Sherlock." I said sternly.

"No you don't because I'm going to marry you."

I looked up at him in surprise. All he did was nod.

"Explain."

"I talked to your mum-"

I knew where this was going. His smile said it all. I jumped up from my old bed and held him close to me. How could he convince my mother when even I couldn't? Even my dad couldn't or Harry...

I pushed him out at arm's length and examined his face.

"What did you drug her with?"

"Nothing. And I didn't say anything either. I made her a promise to never make you cry and she gave me permission. She told me how guilty she felt. I think you should call her John. All she really wants is to be closer to you."

"I'll call her twice a day for this!"

I kissed him roughly to which he responded correspondingly.

"I love you, Sherlock."

He echoed my favourite words back to me in a whisper. Nothing could stifle my excitement nor my happiness as the realization hit me that I indeed would marry the man of my dreams.

VVVVVVVVVVVVV

**Please review. Remember that THE LAST CHAPTER will be posted on 20 May, 2011. For those of you not near a calendar that is this Friday!**

**The last chapter will be extraordinarily long compared to the previous chapters...like I'm thinking five thousand words at least. That's why there is the wait until Friday...i want to make it absolutely perfect. **

**Sincerely yours,**

**Myelle**


	50. FINAL CHAPTER

**Dear readers: this is goodbye. This will be the FINAL chapter of **_**Everlasting. **_** I think you will rather enjoy the ending, but if not let me know. Thank you to everyone who has read and reviewed my story. Please review my final chapter as it is your last chance to do so. There will be no epilogue or anything like that. Thanks again for reading. After six months the story has finally come to a close and I couldn't have done it without your lovely words of encouragement.**

**Sincerely yours,**

**Myelle xx**

VVVVVVVVVVVVVVVV

John POV

I couldn't believe how fast the time flew leading up to the day of our wedding, which we had decided would be in September.

I couldn't wait to see Sherlock in a tuxedo. As for me, I was going to be wearing my formal service attire. Sherlock said it made me look 'handsome' and I always thought that if I would get married I would want to show that I was a soldier-to protect my country and therefore whom I was marrying.

The venue of our wedding _and_ reception was offered to us by Sherlock's mother. The Holmes' country estate was a beautiful, and big, building of stone brick. It was lovely on both inside and out. There were almost twenty rooms just for guests and on the ground floor; there was a banquet hall which would host the reception as there was a dance floor centered in that room. I had always known the Holmes family had money, but I had never imagined they had _this _much.

In the small field behind the house, which was fenced in by trees and gardens, the ceremony would be held. There were going to be three entrances to the field: one for me and one for Sherlock, then one for the guests. Sherlock and I would enter the field at opposite ends and meet halfway. In the middle of the field, and equal distance from both entrances, was an archway which was situated in the centre of the field. Since neither of us was a bride, there was no aisle needed to walk down. We were going to walk out and meet in the middle under the archway where there would be a judge to perform the ceremony.

I went over and over the plans in my head. I was so nervous I could barely think. Just to imagine Sherlock getting ready in the room down the hall...he was probably just as nervous as I was. As for names, we had discussed the matter but decided that we wouldn't be the same if we didn't have our names. So we would both keep our own.

"Looking good, John." I heard from behind me. I hadn't even noticed anyone enter the room.

"Thanks, you have the ring, right?"

Mike Stamford, whom I had chosen as my best man nodded. I figured he was a suitable choice because Sherlock and I owed our entire relationship to him. After all, if I hadn't run into Mike that day in the park, I wouldn't even know Sherlock existed.

"You're not gonna have a bridal moment, are you, mate?"

"What makes me the girl? Sherlock is probably worse off than I was. Honestly, did you ever expect him to get married? He's probably just as shock, if not more so, than the rest of us."

"True. Think I should go check on him?"

"No, he'll be okay. Lestrade is looking after him. That's who he chose as his best man, remember?

"Yeah, yeah." Mike said, waving his hand dismissively. "It's time to go, by the way. Sherlock is already gone and waiting at his side of the meadow. Are you finished in here?"

"Yeah, let's go."

Mike led me to the entrance of the field which I was using. I waited until I heard the cue from the violin music. I knew that Sherlock had asked his mother to play the songs he had written for the wedding. It wasn't commonly known that his mother was almost as good a player as his father, but Sherlock knew she would be perfect.

It was time to begin walking out. My heart was pounding.

VVVVVVVVVVVVV

Sherlock POV

When Lestrade has finally told me it was time to walk to the meadow, I suddenly had a wave of anxiety flash over me which remained until I began my walk from the entrance to the archway.

When I saw John, in his soldier's uniform, all anxiety was washed away and I knew that I would fine from here on out. I felt tears rising, but didn't dare cry in front of everyone. Of course John had seen me cry, but I would _never_ cry in front of our guests. It was a small wedding but anyone who wasn't John was a person too many to cry in front of.

John had actually seen me cry many times. There was when Molly broke up with me... I looked over at her and she smiled warmly while holding her new boyfriend's hand. Then there was when he came home after being abducted my Sebastian Moran. To be fair, I actually hadn't cried until I saw his hands. The time after that was after Ben kissed him and I thought he was leaving me. That was the most heartbreaking moment of my life thus far. Finally, when I asked john to marry me and he said yes, I shed a few tears, of happiness, of course.

As I got closer to John then finally stood in front of him, I knew without a doubt that this is where I'm meant to be. Everything in my life seemingly led to this moment.

The music came to a halt and I turned to smile at my mother, who beamed back at me. John nodded to her before turning his attention fully on me. His eyes sparkled with half formed tears. He was stronger than me, for I had already let one fall onto my cheek.

I am unmistakably infatuated with him. My heart breathes his breath and my soul is tethered to him. There is no one else I want to love. No one else I _could_ love. If there is someone for everything, John is for me.

I barely notice the ceremony beginning and I remain in a trance-like state for most of it until we arrive at the vows. John and I agreed to write our own. A wedding is always more special when couples write their own vows, or so he says. Of course I had to agree seeing as I've never actually been to a wedding before. He would know better than I would.

However, it took lots of research to figure out what, exactly, a vow was.

John began his with a deep breath.

"Sherlock, I never expected you to become my best friends, let alone my husband. The day you asked me to marry you, I didn't think I could be happier. However, every day since then has proved me wrong. Every moment I spend with you is better than the last and I promise to you that I will never let any harm come to you. I'll be your crying shoulder and your best friend as long as you live. I love you, Sherlock."

No, no, _no_...the lump in my throat rose higher and higher. I restrained my tears with all my strength. I couldn't breathe. I couldn't stand. I felt faint and I was ready to fall over but John put a hand on my arm and I couldn't help but look directly into his eyes. Big mistake. My tears started to fall as I tried desperately to remember what I was going to say.

John's grip tightened which seemed to bring me fully down to reality.

"You are perfect. Indescribable. You're the only person I can imagine myself being with and I vow to you to take care of you until your dying day. I'll never let anything bad happen to you. You've saved me from becoming a horrible person and you helped me become a better one just by being yourself. I promise to always preserve your good-natured personality. I will support you in times of need and I'll be there for you whenever you want me to be. Most of all, I promise to love you until the last breath leaves my lips and beyond that."

There were sighs from the audience so I guess I said the right words. The judge said a few more things which I barely understood and finally he 'gave us permission' to kiss each other.

I took John's face in my hands and he wrapped his arms around my back. There were rounds of applause coming at us from all angles. When we turned to our audience, I let my smile show to express how much John truly meant to me. As I rotated to look at him, I saw he wore a similar expression. My heart literally skipped a beat.

VVVVVVVVVVVV

John POV

The ceremony was followed almost immediately by dinner, which was uncommon for weddings but we didn't have far to travel from the place of the ceremony to the reception, seeing as it was just inside the country home.

The staff had set up tables around a large dance floor that was in the centre of the room...honestly, I had no idea what the dance floor was doing there in the first place but I was glad for it. The whole room was decorated beautifully with oranges and yellows and browns. All the fiery colours of fall were mixed into the room. The light from the sun created a sparkle in the banquet hall that could only be described as golden. The soft glittery sunlight was flattering to everyone, making them look heavenly.

Mike Stamford and Sherlock's mum said a few words before Lestrade closed the speeches with one of his own. They weren't long in length but each person had many nice things to say.

The dancing began soon after speech. Mrs. Holmes announced our first dance.

"Please welcome, for the first time together as a married couple, John Watson and Sherlock Holmes for their first dance."

VVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVV

Sherlock POV

I enjoyed dancing very much with John, but did not appreciate what came after a few more dances. The speeches John and I had to make to each other were dawning upon us now and I couldn't manage to calm myself down before stepping up to the podium with my papers.

"It's taken me much longer than it should have to write a speech on John. The problem is that I had to choose which of the many good things he is to talk about. If you asked me to talk about my favourite thing about him, I would go one for days describing in extensive detail everything he does. There is not one single thing I don't like about him and no single thing is my favourite because _everything_ is my favourite. It breaks my heart that I should not be able to tell you exactly how I feel about john. To make you understand, you would have to feel it for yourself, but don't try on him. he's mine now."

There were laughs from our friends and family and I felt confidence sneaking up on me.

"John is my everything. He is my crying shoulder, my best friend and by some stroke of luck he is now my husband. I would like to thank my mother for raising me and ultimately leading me to become a detective, for if I hadn't, I wouldn't have met John. I would also like to thank _you, _Julia, for raising John the way you did and making him perfect. I'll be by your side forever, John. When you need me, you'll never have to call because I will already be solving your problems. I love you, all I want is you, John and I thank you for loving me back."

Both our faces were stained with tears, I realized, as I looked back at John and we both smiled through them.

There was no better man in the world than him and I was proud to be his husband.

VVVVVVVVVVVVVVV

John POV

Sherlock's speech made my eyes tear up, as had many of the day's moments. I stepped up to the podium to make my own.

My throat closed when I opened my mouth to speak and no words came out. I felt overwhelmed by everything and the room felt as if it were spinning. The sun that had brought me such pleasure earlier now seemed to outline everybody's waiting glances.

Sherlock noticed my discomfort and came to wrap his fingers around mine. He gave me a kiss on the cheek and I knew in that moment what I wanted to say and none of it was on paper. With my free hand I folded my speech and put it into my pocket.

"I actually had a nice speech planned but what you all see here is what I want to talk about. What Sherlock did just now, how he took my hand and encouraged me, that's what I want to tell you about him. He is supportive without me asking him to be. He knows that I need help when I don't tell him I do. There isn't one thing I would change about you. If all you want is me then I'll give you nothing less. There isn't a soul in this entire room who would disagree with me after what they saw today. Everyone who knows us knows that we can't be the same without each other. I live for you Sherlock. Being picked on in school, years of painful heartbreaks because I was with the wrong person, getting shot in Afghanistan...it was all for you. It was worth the wounds, both mental and physical to be here today and to get a glimpse of you great heart instead of your great brain. I know without a doubt that that heart now belongs to me as mine does to you, ever and always. There is no question that we will be together until our final day. One might go so far as to call our love _everlasting._"

VVVVVVVVVVV

**THUS CONCLUDING "EVERLASTING"**

**Thanks for reading to everyone! I LOVE you all and im so fortunate to have such a dedicated fanbase! ;)**

**Please review my final chapter!**

**I cannot thank all of you enough for your reviews so far and I hope that you will continue to follow my other stories when I so chose to write a new one...which might be sooner than later as I have had MANY ideas as of late. **

**Thanks again to EVERYONE!**

**Very sincerely yours,**

**Myelle White xx**


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